


Creatures of a Brief Season

by octobergryphon, QueenVee1



Series: Creatures of a Brief Season [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Covenant (2006), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU Covenant, AU magic, All the swears, Anal Sex, Au modern with magic, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, College, Different Powers, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Multi, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Stucky - Freeform, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, UST, framily, we tried to make it fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11860098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octobergryphon/pseuds/octobergryphon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVee1/pseuds/QueenVee1
Summary: The Sons of Ipswich possess otherworldly powers, but they are not the only ones with this gift.On the edge of his 21st birthday, Steve Rogers feels the Power growing within him. He’s hoping that with Bucky, Sam, and Clint, he’ll survive the transformation.That’s not the only thing that’s changing. Bucky and Steve have always been best friends, but now, maybe, there’s something more?Written for the 2017 Stucky Big Bang





	1. Take the Time to Waste a Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“They had battled and bloodied one another, they had kept secrets, broken hearts, lied, betrayed, exiled, they had walked away, said goodbye and sworn it was forever, and somehow, every time, they had mended, they had forgiven, they had survived. Some mistakes could never be fixed - some, but not all. Some people can't be driven away, no matter how hard you try. Some friendships won't break.”_ ― Robin Wasserman, Greed
> 
> In which we meet Steve, Bucky, Sam and Clint, and don’t forget Darcy.

_Ipswich, 2007_

“So, you think he’s dead?” Tyler asked, running his hand through his hair and looking at Caleb across the _Book of Damnation_. 

“All I know is that he’s gone,“ Caleb replied, “the cops didn’t find a body and neither did we. We all looked, Tyler.” He shook his head. Chase had flown backwards into some kind of black void, and disappeared. Caleb hadn't wanted to kill Chase, his lost Covenant brother, but his hand had been forced. It had been him or Sarah and he’d chosen the woman who’d captured his heart.

“So what do we do now? Are there going to be others that appear from nowhere? I thought we were the only ones.”

“From Ipswitch? Yes. The only ones in the world with The Power? Don’t be naive.” The group turned to look up as Gorman came down the stairs into the sanctum, face concerned and serious. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re not the only warlocks. Which means there are others.”

“Do we need to be worried? Prepared?” Reid’s hands wrung in front of him.

Gorman sighed as he took a seat next to Caleb. “I would suggest always being prepared. But you should also be careful. People see the power you boys carry and they’ll want to use it for themselves. Your father,” Gorman said as he glanced over at Caleb, “would want you to know who’s out there.”

“So where are these others?” Pogue asked, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees, his leather jacket creaking in the candlelight.

Caleb nodded at the Book as the pages began fluttering on their own. Rising, the four boys stood when the pages stopped, peering down at the book. They watched the ink swirl into being on the yellowed parchment as four names appeared.

__**James Buchanan Barnes**

**Steven Grant Rogers**

**Clinton Francis Barton**

**Samuel Thomas Wilson**

*~*~*~*~*

_Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut. Now._

“Please tell me you’re the kind of guy who actually does their part in group work, because I _cannot_ be in a group with that dudebro over there.” 

Steve Rogers looked up from his sketchbook, pencil pausing on the paper as he glanced at the dark-haired woman who’d just thrown herself into the empty seat beside him. He blinked behind his glasses, blue gaze surprised by her arrival and words.

“Do you?” he asked after a moment, once he’d worked out what her jumble of words had meant. He blamed the time it’d taken for him to respond on the earliness of the class.. He was proud that he hadn’t jumped at her sudden arrival, as he’d been engrossed in his sketch and ignoring anything else in the auditorium.

“My work and most of everyone else’s,” she answered, beginning to root around in her bag, “but I’m hoping to be pleasantly surprised.” She looked back at Steve and smiled, and he found himself matching her smile with one of his own.

Behind Steve and the new arrival, a sandy blond eyebrow rose. Clint Barton looked over at Sam Wilson with a slight upturn of lips and a small shrug in his shoulders. _You know her?_

 _No_ , Sam thought back. _No idea. She’s cute though._

Clint shrugged. _I like redheads better_ , he nodded at a redhead in the back corner of the class, smiling sheepishly when Sam gave him an impressed smile.

“History is one of my favorite subjects,” the girl continued, “and I promise I can hold my own in the group. Is it just you, or....” She glanced around the steadily filling auditorium, apparently sizing up students as they entered.

“Group?”

The girl turned to look up at Clint with a grin. “Oh! Hi!”

“The syllabus says there’ll be a group project over the course of the semester,” Steve said, pointing to the paper he’d picked up from the desk at the front of the room. He watched Clint shuffle through his own papers with a roll of his eyes.

“Here,” Sam said with a laugh, handing Clint his copy.

The girl smiled up at Sam and Clint before turning back to Steve. “So it’s the three of you? We’ll need one more then.”

 _Bucky, where are you?_ Steve distractedly thought in his best friend’s direction, watching the girl as she grabbed her phone and started tapping on the screen. He ignored the look Clint was shooting his way, seeing Sam punch Clint’s shoulder in his peripheral vision.

A hand ruffled Steve’s hair from behind and he jumped, focus pulled away from watching the girl’s fingers as they beat out a dizzying rhythm on her phone. Her fingernails were a bright green with a few chips here and there, and he was surprised how quickly they seemed to fly over the screen.

“Thanks for saving me a seat, guys,” Bucky Barnes greeted as he slumped into the chair next to Steve, throwing a smile in Clint and Sam’s direction. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as they gave him wide eyed expression, nodding their heads emphatically toward the other side of Steve. He leaned forward onto the desk to peer around his best friend.

His eyes echoed their widened surprise as he caught sight of the cute girl to Steve’s right. She was pretty, all dark curls and pouting lips. He smiled when she glanced up in his direction. He got it now, the looks Clint and Sam had given him when he arrived. 

“Hello, gorgeous, I’m James Barnes,” he said towards Darcy, giving his best smile. “Hopefully these guys haven't scared you off.”

“Them?” she asked, amusement tinting her features. “Not yet, but there’s still time. It’s nice to meet you, James. I’m Darcy Lewis.”

“Clint Barton,” Clint said, smiling when she glanced back at him, “this one is Sam Wilson, and that there is Steve Rogers.”

She glanced at each of them in turn, eyes lingering on the upturned lips of their newest arrival before they landed back on Steve. “So do I get to join your boys’ group or do I need to go find myself some other partners?”

When no one spoke, Steve cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure why his friends had suddenly become mute, but he had a feeling it had to do with the looks they were throwing at him over her shoulder. “Sure. I mean, your handwriting has _got_ to be better than Clint’s,” Steve replied. 

She smiled at him, hazel eyes shining behind her glasses, and Steve felt his cheeks heating before he forced himself to look away, trying to turn his attention to the syllabus. He felt Bucky’s arm stretch along the back of his chair, his friend leaning forward to say something to Darcy, but the door at the front of the room opened, a large blond man and a brunette woman appearing from the teacher’s entrance. Steve tucked his sketchbook away and pulled out his notebook.

At his side, he heard Darcy make a small noise, glancing over as she whipped out her phone again and began texting quickly.

“Good morning and welcome to History Two Oh Five.” The professor’s voice carried across the auditorium, quieting conversations around the room. “You’ve enrolled in this course because it’s either required for your major or because you like history and didn’t want to take a maths class. I applaud your choice. I am Professor Odinson, and this is Ms. Jane Foster, your teaching assistant.”

Steve hunched forward slightly, making notes on the syllabus and jotting notes about when assignments would be due. He felt his chair move as Bucky placed his boot on the bottom rungs of his seat, stretching his legs and scratching his hair. _You were still in bed when I left_ , Steve chastised the older boy.

 _I got here on time, didn’t I? Besides, it gave you time to talk to this doll_ , Bucky thought back, grey eyes sliding to the mass of dark hair in the desk on Steve’s other side. He watched her fingers beat out a message before she set the phone aside. 

_Yeah, a deep conversation consisting of two words_ , Steve replied, rolling his pencil between his fingers. He watched Darcy shove her glasses up her nose with the end of her pen and his lips twitched up slightly as they fell right back down again. 

The professor’s voice intruded on his thoughts and he shifted his gaze back to the syllabus to see if he'd missed anything Odinson had said about the first paper.

Steve jumped a bit when a folded up piece of paper (pink with - _is that a pony?_ ) fell on top of his notebook. He opened it to see loopy handwriting.

_My number is 804-555-3278. Text me later so we can set up study times with the boys?_

Steve’s eyes flicked over his glasses to see Darcy wink at him. She turned back to her phone and he continued to look at her, slightly mystified. 

_Nice going Rogers!_

_Yeah, share with the class, stud!_

Clint and Sam each chortled in Steve’s head. He told them both to go fuck themselves before turning his attention back the front of the classroom. 

The teacher was a very large, very well built man whose voice commanded attention. His teacher’s assistant was dwarfed compared to the professor and looked much more serious than her colleague. Steve’s eyebrows rose when Darcy threw a thumbs-up gesture toward the front of the room. The TA rolled her eyes, though a small smile ghosted onto her lips seconds later.

“History isn’t just a list of old facts and people that no one cares about. History teaches us why the world is the way it is. The Revolution. The Civil War. Civil Rights. NASA and the space program. All of these events have an impact on your life every day. If you understand history, you understand how each moment could become something extraordinary. And that’s how you should live your life.” Professor Odinson turned toward his assistant. “Ms. Foster?” 

At his cue, Jane jumped in. “Your study groups will be tasked with choosing a one-year time period from the past and analyzing its far reaching importance to today. This will be supplemented with weekly course material and quizzes.”

As the clock ticked down, most people in the class grew a bit restless. Steve frowned as he glanced around the room, finding himself leaning to his right toward Darcy. He was surprised when they both started talking at the same.

“I hate-” 

“I can’t stand-”

“Packing up early?” she finished, laughter dancing in her eyes as she met his gaze. “Yeah, me too.” She leaned closer to him, keeping her voice down so they didn’t distract anyone else. “I don’t care if there’s only four minutes left. You wait. It’s about _respect_.” 

“Alright. That’s enough for today,” Professor Odinson said, a note of finality in his already commanding tone. “Form your groups, no more than five people, think about possible topics, and read chapters one and two from ‘A People’s History of the United States’ by Howard Zinn. We’ll discuss on Thursday.“ 

Darcy shifted her gaze back to the boys as the class ended, giving them all a wide smile. “I’d love to stay and chat, gents, but I’m the idiot who scheduled her next class on the other side of campus and has to grab breakfast on the way.” She focused her gaze on Steve, and her grin brightened a bit. “Dinner tonight? D Hall? Lemme know, Steve.” 

With that, Steve watched her twist her pen up into her hair to hold it in place and throw her bag over her shoulder. Her phone was out and in her hands, fingers flying over the screen as she made her way out the door. Steve watched her go, unable to keep the slightly baffled expression from his face.

Bucky looked at the back of Steve’s head with widened eyes as the blond followed the path of Darcy’s departure. When Steve looked down at his notebook, a puzzled look on his face, Bucky knew what was running through his best friend’s mind. This was the first time in a long time that a girl had focused on _Steve_. Bucky hated it, but most people tended to overlook Steve for one reason or another. It was sad, as Bucky thought Steve was smart, and funny, and one of the most caring people he’d ever met. Steve was his oldest friend, his _best_ friend, and he deserved attention.

Unable to explain the weird feeling in his stomach as he looked at the dazed expression on Steve’s face, Bucky ran his hand through already messy hair, repeating to himself that he was glad someone had finally noticed what he already saw in Steve.

“I’m good for dinner,” Bucky said after a moment of silence. Clint nodded in response, grinning widely as he looked at both Bucky and Steve. Sam was laughing too hard at their expressions to respond out loud.

*~*~*~*~*

“So, what are your thoughts on the Salem witch trials?” Darcy asked later that night, squirting an obscene amount of ketchup on top of her fries.

Sam’s arm was slung across the back of Clint’s chair, his dark eyes glancing around the Memorial Union’s cafeteria. At her words, he turned his head sharply to look at her, eyebrows lifting. “What?”

“The witch trials.” She shrugged her shoulders softly. “They’ve always been interesting to me. Not the Wicca ‘I wear black lipstick and that makes me one with the dark’ stuff, but the _actual people_. Giles Corey was pressed by stones. Know what he said when they asked him to confess? ‘More Weight.’ The man was a badass and didn’t deserve to die just because some stupid girls got bored and made up a story. Not to mention the way it links to the social expectations of women in Puritan society.”

Clint’s blue eyes widened as she began to eat. _Did she just…_

 _Yes. Yes she did._ Sam threw him a surprised but amused smile.

_You don’t think…_

_No, Clint. I’m almost positive that the pretty girl we just met **today** isn’t aware we have Powers._

Darcy looked up when no one said anything. The boys seemed to be sharing a look between themselves that she didn’t fully understand. She stopped chewing, worried she’d said something wrong. “I mean… I’m open to other ideas, too.”

Clint shrugged and stuffed more pizza into his mouth. 

“Please, don't even think about saying anything until you finish chewing. It's bad enough the rest of us have to deal with your table manners,” Sam said, glaring at Clint. 

“Besides, there's a lady with us, and she probably hits harder than any of us,” Steve added, mentally cringing. Why had he said that? Was he really that bad at making conversation with a pretty girl? Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

He’d been nervous throughout his afternoon classes, baffled that Darcy had given her number to him, and not Bucky, or even Sam. Her friendliness seemed genuine. Steve was trying very hard to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone had been friendly with him to get to Bucky. 

“I don't know about that,” Darcy said with a smile in his direction. “I can’t say I’ve ever been known for my right hook, but I _do_ know how to download someone’s search history and send it to their parents.” 

She laughed as the looks on their faces slowly turned to horror. 

“She’s terrifying,” Sam’s said. Clint agreed with a solemn nod.

“But like I said,” she said, “I'm fine with any other topic. I'm an equal opportunity kind of girl.”

 _It's not like we’d have to give this any real work other than finding sources that have something other than ‘Damnation’ in the title_ , Bucky thought at the other three.. 

Darcy looked between the four of them when they went quiet. She watched them look at each other, somehow having a conversation without anything being said. Part of her thought it was odd, but the other part said she didn’t know them well enough and maybe they were just that good of friends where sometimes words weren’t necessary. She knew she and Jane could do the same thing sometimes.

When enough time had passed that she felt a little uncomfortable, she reached out and poked Steve’s arm. “Hello?” 

Steve jumped when she touched him, almost knocking his drink over. He cursed and managed to catch it, cheeks instantly erupting in heated embarrassment. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Grinning, Darcy grabbed a few napkins and held them out to Steve. “It’s okay. You just all went radio silent.”

Bucky grinned at the pink filling Steve’s cheeks. “Sorry. Sometimes it’s like we know what the other is thinking.” He saw Clint and Sam grin, too, watching Steve bumble.

Steve dabbed at his hands, ignoring the looks the other boys were throwing his way. “I think the witch trials would be a good topic. The syllabus said we need to brainstorm an outline for next Monday. I can make and invite you to a google doc?”

“That works for me. Between classes and work I should be able to do some reading.” Darcy shifted her attention from James back to Steve with a large smile. Movement pulled her attention over Steve’s shoulder and she lifted her arm and waved at the familiar figure. “And I know just who to ask for pointers!”

The table glanced over to see their TA heading in their direction, carrying a tray with a large plate of salad. The brunette offered the group gathered a small smile as she approached.

“You know the TA? Oh, I'll be getting an A in this class for sure.”

“I wouldn't go that far, Mr. Wilson,” Jane said with a small smile as she took the open seat next to Darcy. 

Darcy feigned a heavy, exasperated sigh at Jane, leaning onto the table and holding her chin. “You couldn't just _pretend_ so I'd look super cool? Thanks for nothing, best friend.” She grinned when Jane rolled her eyes and began eating.

Clint waved at Jane in greeting, reaching out to snag one of Darcy’s fries even though his mouth was still full of pizza. 

Darcy turned back to the boys, grabbing another fry from her plate. “Yeah, Jane and me go way back. She's one of the reasons why I came to Trinity in the first place.”

Rolling his eyes at Clint’s antics, used to them after all these years, Sam gave Jane an impish grin. “Please, feel free to call me Sam.”

“I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Wilson.”

“The boys and I just decided that our project is going to be on the Salem Witch Trials,” Darcy said, leaning back in her chair.

Bucky watched Steve’s lips twitch upward when Darcy’d said ‘the boys,’ though he hid it by taking a drink of his soda. Smiling to himself, Bucky tore his gaze from the pink in Steve’s cheeks to the newest addition at the table.

“That should be an interesting topic, especially with the new research stating that Rye poisoning might have been a contributing factor,” Jane said with a nod, taking a bite of her salad.

“Damn, I love that brain of yours,” Darcy said, laughing when Jane shrugged her shoulders. She turned back to the four men at the table. “See that, boys? It was obviously meant to be. We should get together. Maybe watch a few movies about the trials?”

“We’d be willing to host,” Bucky offered, ignoring the look Steve sent his way. “Maybe get some pizza?”

Darcy grinned at Bucky. “Perfect.”

*~*~*~*~*

“But was she serious?”

“Stone. Serious.”

“Serious about what?”

Clint grinned at Bucky as he dropped the plate of microwaved nachos on the table in front of him and Sam, knocking into Steve where he was trying to beat Sam in their intense round of Halo. “The waitress at the bar last night. She asked for my ID.”

Bucky looked between both of them, eyebrow raising. “And this is odd? Why? With all the underage drinking they’re starting to crack down.”

“It wasn’t that she asked me for ID, it was _what_ she ID’d me for.”

When Clint just grinned at him, Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing the grinning man was eating up the dramatic tension he was creating. “And what, great thespian, did she ID you for?”

“A Shirley Temple.”

Steve snorted into his Coke, before saying, “Now you know how I feel _all of the time_. At least people think you’re old enough to be carded, instead of looking at you like you’re still in middle school.”

“Aw, Steve, no.”

“Aw, Clint, yes. Can’t complain about the kids menu, though. I do love a Happy Face.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a giant nerd, Rogers?” Sam asked, pointing at him with a chip. 

Bucky frowned. “Wait, do Shirley Temples even _have_ alcohol in them?”

Sam pointed to his nose with one hand and toward Bucky with another. “No, James. No they do _not_ have alcohol, thus my worry of the state of her education. If she’s a student here, then she really needs to take some remedial courses.”

“It could have been an honest mistake. With all the fru-fru cocktail names out there, maybe she just hadn’t heard that one before.”

“That’s a very good point, Clint. Maybe she thought it _did_ have alcohol in it and was just being thorough and doing her job. What do you think about that, Sam?”

Sam put up both of his hands, giving Steve an acknowledging nod of his head. “You’re right, Rogers. You’re completely right. I made a brash decision based on one incident and it was unfair of me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as their antics. “I don’t think I’ve ever even _had_ a Shirley Temple.”

Clint slammed his hand on his thigh, the three others’ eyes widening. “That’s it! A round for all of us then! Huzzah!”

“I don’t even know what’s in a Shirley Temple. Do you even have the ingredients here?” Bucky asked, pulling out his phone to search for himself.

“Do we have the ingredients? Do we - I am affronted, Barnes. Afffronted, I tell you,” Clint’s hand clutched at his chest before he turned to look at Sam. “ _Do_ we have the ingredients?”

All four of them looked at each other silently before letting out loud guffaws of laughter.


	2. I‘m the Satellite, You’re the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“That was our friendship: equal parts irritation and cooperation.”_ ― Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children
> 
> As Steve’s birthday grows closer and closer, he shares the changes (good and bad) with his friends.

Steve had long been curled up in bed, earbuds in and killer rabbit slippers staring up at him from his feet at the end of the bed. Bucky was sprawled across his own bed, surrounded by books and highlighters, his laptop balanced precariously on a knee.

Steve was supposed to be working on the reading for his lit class, but he kept getting distracted.

He kept sneaking glances at Bucky from the corner of his eye. Bucky was down to just his undershirt and grey boxer briefs, the legs riding high enough that Steve could see where the dusky gold of Bucky’s summer tan faded into the top of his thighs. They had the window open to let in the late summer air, and it meant that Bucky had to keep flipping his hair out of his eyes, though it never stayed put completely. 

“So, Darcy...” Bucky’s voice broke the companionable silence as he highlighted a sentence in his open textbook. His tone was light and conversational, and he kept his eyes on the book in front of him, but he could see Steve in his peripheral vision.

Steve blinked and waited for Bucky to elaborate, but no other words came. He waited a beat longer and then raised his eyebrows at his friend. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, highlighter scratching across another sentence. “Have you thought about asking her out?”

Steve pushed up on his elbow and peered across the space at his best friend, frowning slightly. “Why would you say that?”

Bucky dropped his pen and scratched at a phantom itch on an exposed bit of his chest, looking over at Steve. “I don’t know. She’s your type, right? Dark hair. Lips. Bright eyes.” Bucky knew Steve had a type and Darcy managed to tick all the boxes.

Steve shook his head, turning back to his book, pretending to read but not really paying attention to the words on the page. “She’s just being nice, Buck. When I'm with the three of you I'm the easy way to get in.”

Bucky frowned. “Don't do that, punk,” he said as he closed his laptop and sat up a little straighter, turning his full attention to his best friend. 

Bucky thought Peggy had seen Steve; she’d seen the strength in his lean limbs and slight frame, the goodness of his smile, the glint in Steve's eyes when he was being a shit. She’d looked at the whole of Steve and loved him for it. Tony had appreciated the wicked wit and smarts behind Steve’s clunky glasses and the pure beauty that came from his slim fingers when he sketched. Neither of those relationships had worked out, but they’d at least seen Steve for who he was and what he had to offer. Bucky saw all that too, but he’d always been too scared to do anything about it.

Bucky didn't understand how people just dismissed Steve, and he hated even more how it made Steve feel, hated that it made Steve think of himself as less somehow. It’d been happening for years, but Bucky hoped that maybe Darcy would be different. It was worth a shot, in any case, and Bucky thought Steve deserved to find out.

“Darcy only had eyes for you,” Bucky said, thinking about dinner the previous night. She’d been friendly with all of them, even keeping up with Clint’s snark and Sam’s jokes, but her eyes had continually strayed back to Steve and lingered.

Not that Bucky had been watching her watching Steve. It was just something he’d noticed. He was keeping a protective eye on his best friend. That’s all it was. Nothing more.

“Leave off, Buck, okay?” Steve’s said, voice resigned. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.

Bucky sighed heavily, pulling himself to his feet. He crossed the floor and took a seat on the edge of Steve’s bed. “What's going on with you lately? We’re here. We’re young. You just need to get out there. Go on some horrible dates, drink too much, oversleep and skip a few classes. That’s what college is for.”

Steve leaned his head into his palm, avoiding looking Bucky in the eye. He knew he wasn't as funny as Sam, as easygoing as Clint, as incredibly charming as Bucky. Especially since he hadn't Ascended yet and the three of them had already gotten their Power. 

“You're probably right,” Steve mumbled. He rolled his eyes when Bucky knocked into his leg with his own, knowing that his best friend was just trying to be comforting. Even so, he couldn’t help the small nagging voice in the back of his mind saying that nothing was going to change on his birthday. Even if his body changed, he’d still be easily looked over, easily ignored. “It just doesn't feel different yet, I guess.” 

“It will.” Bucky bumped his shoulder gently against Steve's, trying to encourage his friend, hoping to coax a smile from the blond if he could. Maybe even taking some comfort of his own, if he was honest with himself. While Steve had had one or two real relationships, Bucky had only had superficial ones. None of them seemed to give him what he needed; he couldn't put into words what he needed, not exactly, but he knew he hadn’t found it yet. No one had made his heart skip a beat or made the butterflies swell in his stomach. 

_No one else, that is_ , he thought to himself, ignoring the feeling as soon as it appeared, like he’d done so many times before.

Bucky knocked into Steve once more before climbing to his feet and returning to his bed. “You’ll need to beat back the boys and girls with sticks. Large, heavy sticks.”

*~*~*~*~*

**Darcy (to boys):** Pizza and Arthur Miller’s Crucible?  
 **Clint:** Movie or play?  
 **Darcy:** Dealer’s choice.  
 **Clint:** Will you make us have parts and do voices?  
 **Darcy:** Wasn’t planning on it…  
 **Clint:** Well that makes me sad  
 **Sam:** Forget Barton. He just likes to be an ass.  
 **Bucky:** You’ll get used to it.  
 **Steve:** What they’re trying to say it yes, pizza and The Crucible sounds good.  
 **Bucky:** We’re in Lehigh Dorm. Room 107.  
 **Darcy:** Tomorrow at 7 work?  
 **Steve.** Perfect.

*~*~*~*~*

**Bucky:** Tuesday night? More movies?  
 **Steve:** It might have to be later. I have a thing for art.  
 **Sam:** I’ll see if I can make it work, but feel free to start without me  
 **Clint:** I’ve got Judo.  
 **Clint:** But go ahead. I think I remember Darcy saying she’d be open  
 **Clint:** You don’t need us chaperoning you, do you?  
 **Steve:** You’re a dick  
 **Clint:** Love you too, bro

*~*~*~*~*

Bucky smiled at Darcy as he pulled open the door, stepping aside so she could enter. “You’re early.”

She barely glanced up at him, passing him into the room, eyes cast down at her phone. “Mmmhmm,” she hummed as she dropped her bag.

Eyebrow raising as she trailed off, Bucky shut the door behind her and watched as she stood in the middle of the room, eyes on the screen in her hands. When she’d fallen silent for several seconds, fingers blazing over the screen, Bucky cleared his throat. “Steve’s not back from class yet.”

“Oh!” Darcy jumped, then smiled sheepishly at him, cheeks tinting pink. “Damn, I’m sorry! I’m yelling at Jane and here I am, being just as oblivious as her.” She toed off her shoes and dropped onto Steve’s bed, folding her legs under herself. 

“Care to elaborate?” It looked like she was debating whether or not to tell him, and he gave her an encouraging smile. “I know how to keep a secret. Trust me.”

She took a deep breath, grinning softly. “I know my best friend very well, and she likes to pretend she is oblivious to any type of male attention. In particular, a man I’ve come to refer to as Professor McHottie.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose. “Odinson?”

“Mmmhmm,” she said with a grin, holding up her phone as if it was evidence. “I swear. I need to get the girl a pin that says _’I’m oblivious, ask me how!’_ I could put it on her coat and she probably wouldn’t even notice it was there.”

“You think there’s something going on between them?”

Darcy sighed, giving him an exasperated shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Yes? She likes him, that much I know. However, my friend is nothing if not professional and she’s fighting her attraction tooth and claw.”

Bucky snorted at the way Darcy’s fingers curled into talons as she spoke. “Tooth and nail?”

“Tooth. Nail. Claw. The determination of a yeti. She’s using it all. And it is _so frustrating_!” She slumped to her side on Steve’s bed, holding her head up as she stretched out. “Have you ever seen someone deny themselves something out of some kind of moral innocence?”

“Yeah. I know a few people like that,” Bucky said with a nod, ignoring the large yellow arrow covered in blinking lights he imagined was floating above his head. “Sometimes it’s hard to admit you want something because you don’t want to ruin it.”

Darcy’s head cocked to the side as she looked at him and Bucky realized that might have come out sounding a bit bitter. “Are you okay with me being here? I can come back later?”

Bucky’s eyes widened.. “Huh? No, it’s fine. Unless you -”

“No, I’m good.”

They both laughed, and Bucky felt the brief moment of unease dissipate. “Wanna start a movie? We can stop it when Steve gets here.”

“Sure. Got one in mind?”

As Bucky reached for his laptop, Darcy climbed off Steve’s bed and joined Bucky on his. “Have you heard of _What We Do In The Shadows_?” At the shake of his head, Darcy grinned, grabbing a pillow to put behind her back as she sat beside him. “You are in for a treat then, Mr. Barnes.”

“What do I get if I hate it?” Bucky asked, looking over at her with a smirk.

“A new battery because you are obviously a robot,” she snarked, reaching up to pull the pen from her hair, her curls falling to her shoulders. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”

He laughed at her enthusiasm, navigating to the movie. As it started, Bucky settled against her, smiling when he noticed she was wearing a pair of socks that said “Darn It All To Heck” and were dotted with pictures of sewing needles and thread. “Alright, but I reserve the right to exact revenge for my high hopes.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and hit her shoulder against his. “Deal.”

*~*~*~*~*

Steve woke, gasping, and threw the sheets off his body. His shirt stuck at his neck and back, slick and almost soaked through with sweat. He pulled it over his head, flinging it to the floor at the end of his bed, the fabric hitting the tile with a wet _slap_.

His chest felt like he was on the edge of an asthma attack, unable to catch his breath. But that wasn’t right; he hadn’t had an attack since his sixteenth birthday, when the Power had started to heal his lungs and every other bodily ailment he’d grown up with.

Steve looked to the other side of the room, squinting in the dark. Bucky was fast asleep, curled on his side and facing Steve. He was peaceful, the artful bow of his lips soft and beautiful. 

Good. The nightmare hadn't woken him. 

The closer it got to his birthday, the more vivid and _real_ Steve’s dreams felt. All he could remember from this one was blood. Dark, almost black blood, dripping down walls, splattering up to ceilings. Deep pools of it, seeping into sigils cut into stone floor, which glowed with a purple light as the cooling liquid filled the crevices.

A sound was building in his ear, making every hair on his body stand on end. There was a vibration in the air, like the whole world had taken a breath and was about to exhale in an explosion of sound. He could _feel_ the screams more than hear them, and when he looked down, a fresh, beating heart was pumping in his outstretched hands, impossibly warm and still glistening wet. 

“ _Steve! Steve! Wake up! Come on!_ ”

Steve’s eyes flew open, this time not inside of a dream, but in the darkened dorm room he shared with Bucky. He looked up at his friend’s worried face and swallowed several times before he was able to respond. His throat hurt like he’d gargled with sand and he grimaced at the uncomfortable feeling. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Bucky said, the fear in his voice making the words sharper than he’d meant them to be. “You were screaming and I couldn’t wake you -” 

Bucky turned, staring at the door as someone pounded on it from the other side. He crossed the room and opened the door a fraction. Their RA, Bradley, stared at him from the other side, dark eyes annoyed at having been woken up by screaming. “Everything alright in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Bucky lied easily, “just a spider. We got it.” He couldn’t tell if the RA believed him or not, but he shut the door on him regardless and crossed the room back to Steve’s side. “You’re soaked. Arms up.”

“I can take my own damned shirt off,“ Steve grumbled, the rest of his complaint muffled by said shirt. 

He was still too rattled by his dream to feel any self consciousness as he stripped the rest of the way, standing to dig in a drawer for new clothes. He felt a cool washcloth on the back of his neck. He had been too distracted to notice Bucky leave to go to the bathroom. Was he missing time? _No_ , he thought. _Bucky hadn’t left the room at all_. Steve turned, seeing the flash of black and fire in Bucky’s eyes that signaled the Use of his Power.

“Buck-”

“What was it?” Bucky asked, ignoring the admonishment for using his powers he knew was on the tip of Steve’s tongue. He hadn’t wanted to leave Steve’s side and it’d been such a little use that it hadn’t even crossed his mind _not_ to do it. “The nightmare. What’d you see?”

They’d all had nightmares the closer they’d gotten to Ascending. Portents and omens. Most of them had been benign, a way for their consciousness to accept the Power they were about to gain. Manifestations of their excitement and anxiety. 

Steve was close, just a few months out, but Bucky had never seen him like this before. It scared him.

Steve shuddered, glad for the dark of the room, just the crack of light peeking under the door from the hallway. He could still see the drops of blood hanging in the air, feel the contracting muscles of the heart in his hand.

It would be easier to just show Bucky, since the words were stuck somewhere around Steve’s sternum. Bucky was holding the washcloth to the back of Steve’s neck, so Steve covered that hand with his own, sharing the dream with him, eyes flashing with black and flames. 

“There's just so much blood and screaming. And you’re there, but you're not? It was fucking horrible,” he finally said, thumping down onto Bucky’s bed. Bucky sat beside him and Steve leaned against his best friend, taking in the very _real_ smell of the product he used in his hair to the faint spice of his soap, all with the underlying smell of sleepy boy. Steve didn't know when that smell itself had become comforting, but it was. 

“We need to tell Sam and Clint in the morning,” Steve said, trying to shake away the fear of the dream, still sticking on his skin like spiderwebs.

“We will.” Steve’s dream was awful and Bucky couldn’t fault him for the screaming. He’d just been shown a glimpse of it, but he swore he could smell and taste the copper of blood in their room. He expected to be hearing a third heartbeat, but he could only sense his own and Steve’s where it pressed against his arm. He looked over at Steve’s bed with a frown. “Let me get your mattress clean -”

“Buck, you already Used once today. I’ll just lay a towel down -”

Bucky shook his head. “No. Just... stay here. There’s plenty of room. And if we’re going to make it to the early morning class you made all four of us fit into our schedules, you’ll need to get some good sleep. We’ll never hear the end of it if _both_ of us are late.”

The dream had rattled Bucky enough that he didn’t like the idea of Steve sleeping alone. If sleeping in the same bed gave Steve comfort enough to find a little more rest before they needed to be up, he was happy to help. If he were being honest, the idea of taking comfort _from_ Steve sounded nice, too.

“What I _need_ is pants,” Steve said, going pink in the ears, glad that it couldn’t been seen in the dark of the room. _For fuck’s sake. I’m naked on Bucky's bed._

Bucky rose and dug into his dresser. He flung a pair of bottoms with pirate ships on them at Steve. He waited until Steve had pulled them on, then crawled into the small bed behind the slighter boy. 

They’d spent countless nights growing up curled around each other, falling asleep chest to back. At first just the two of them, then with Clint and Sam after fifth grade. Sleeping in the same bed was nothing new, though it’d been a while. Definitely before Steve had realized his feelings for Bucky were… complicated. In any case, Steve was soothed by Bucky’s even, calm breathing as it fanned against his neck, and he let it lull him into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

“That’s messed up.” Clint let out a indignant noise of pain as Sam’s fist swung out and punched him in the arm, his expression saying that bluntness had not been the right choice. “What? It is!”

“What he _means_ to say is that we’ve all been there. None of our dreams were altogether pleasant.” Sam leaned forward, lowering his voice. “How much longer do you have? Eleven weeks? Three months? It’ll all be coming up now.”

Bucky shook his head. “It was more than that. I could _taste_ the blood. And it seemed close. I can’t really explain how, but it did.”

“But what are we supposed to do about it? Did you see any faces, recognize any locations?”

Steve shook his head. He’d gotten a few hours sleep after the dream, but when he’d woken up, Bucky wrapped around him protectively, he’d not been able to fall back asleep. He just savored the feeling of his best friend against his skin and had taken advantage of the quiet moment, not wanting to break the momentary peace that had settled over him.

“I didn’t recognize anything. I heard screams. Mostly female. Lots of blood. It felt… near?” He looked up at Bucky, trying to share what they’d both seen, but realized neither of them could get across what it’d felt like. It was something only they’d be able to understand. “But it felt real.”

Sam nodded and sat back in his chair as students began pouring into the hall. “I guess we just wait and see if something happens. Or until you have another dream. We can’t do much else.”

“It wasn’t just a dream,” Bucky insisted, shaking his head.

“What wasn’t a dream?” Darcy asked as she slid into the desk next to Steve, sandwiching him between Bucky, with Clint and Sam at their backs. 

The boys had forgotten they weren’t in their own private bubble. All four of them jumped in surprise, Clint actually falling out of his chair. 

“Aww, chair. No,” he glared, taking Sam’s outstretched hand for help as he climbed to his feet.

“Weird dreams. You know, the ones that seem _too_ normal, almost like they’re true and you’re actually living them.” Bucky replied smoothly, smiling brightly at her. She was wearing a well-worn t-shirt from the local animal shelter, the neckline cut until it displayed the strap of the bright green tank underneath on her shoulders. 

“I have a recurring dream like that. It includes Launchpad from Darkwing Duck. In my intro to psych course, the professor would call those hallucinations,” Darcy said, pulling out her notebook and digging into her backpack to find her pen.

“As long as I’m not hallucinating a world made of only shrimp,” Steve said, all too happy to throw his attention toward Darcy and away from the darkness of his dream. He reached out and plucked a pen from Darcy’s hair, trying not to tug on the one that was holding the mass of curls up. “Looking for this?”

Darcy turned and took her pen with a grin.“Thanks. Jane makes fun of me for the number of pens I lose up there. She may have made references to me being her favorite travelling office supply store.”

Behind Steve and Darcy’s back, Sam lifted an eyebrow and looked at Clint. The pair shared a small smile before reaching into their bags in perfect unison, each pulling out a notebook. Normally, they wouldn’t have to take notes, as Steve had always been much better at it, but both of them wondered if he’d _actually_ be taking any notes while in the middle of Bucky and their new lady friend. The distraction level was too great, and they knew how easily Steve was thrown by pretty aesthetics - especially people.

“I’ve got extras,” Bucky said, leaning over Steve’s desk to smile at Darcy. “Just in case.”

They all looked to the door when Professor Odinson come through the door, hair out of it's usual neat tail, Jane following close behind looking flustered. Steve saw Darcy’s mouth drop in his peripheral vision, glancing in her direction. Her phone seemed to materialized in her hand and he got a bit dizzy watching her fingers blur on the screen.

“Good morning, all. I hope you had a good weekend. Today we’ll cover chapters three and four, and the articles by Tyler,” he rumbled at the front of the room. Clearing his throat, Professor Odinson pushed his hair back and settled against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky reached across Steve’s desk to nudge Darcy, eyes glinting with questions. This was interesting, considering the conversation they’d had a few days prior, before Steve had gotten to the dorm. She looked back at him with eyes glinting in satisfaction. Bucky nodded his head toward Jane and the professor, one eyebrow going up in a questioning manner. When Darcy nodded knowingly, his face broke into a smirk.

Steve sighed from the middle of the pair. “Pay attention,” he hissed, “or I won’t share my notes.”

Darcy shot Bucky a impish grin before turning back to the front of the auditorium, reaching out to write “sorry” on the corner of Steve’s notes, laughing silently when he turned to her with a scandalized look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We cannot even with all of this beautiful art. Alby is amazing. 
> 
> Like, honestly. People who have this kind of talent? GUH! So pretty.
> 
> You can find those hilarious slippers HERE.


	3. Something I Never Quite Had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I am your fairy tale. Your dream. Your wishes and desires, and I am your thirst and your hunger and your food and drink"_ ― Klaus Kinski
> 
> Bucky and Steve are feeling unspoken hunger pangs.

Bucky laughed at something Reed said, eyes crinkling at the corners. He’d let his Civil Engineering classmates talk him into going for a drink after class, glad for the distraction. Most of his time was spent around Steve, Clint and Sam, with Darcy now thrown into the mix more often than not. He loved spending time with them but it was nice to go out with other people, let them tell their stories and get lost in the crush of bodies and the taste of hops.

He glanced down at his watch, noting that Steve wouldn’t be back from his art class for another two hours. It wasn’t that he was _waiting_ for Steve, but the place was too quiet without him humming along to his earbuds, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Bucky’d gotten used to having Steve there with him and it felt wrong when he wasn’t.

He nodded when Ben asked if they wanted another round, pulled out of his inner thoughts, leaning onto the bar as he tried to shift his focus from Steve and to his classmates. Bucky’s eyes widened when a pretty blonde inserted herself between him and Ben, smiling widely. “You didn’t tell me you’d be here tonight. Should I be jealous?”

Bucky blinked at her. “Um, no?”

“Good. Wouldn’t have to fight anyone else for your affections.”

Bucky’s face pulled into a confused expression, leaning back at bit to look at her. “And you are?”

The blonde laughed and it sounded fake, almost desperate. “That’s funny. Stop messing with me.”

Ben’s face appeared over her shoulder, giving Bucky a thumbs-up sign. Bucky considered playing along, but he wasn’t in the mood. “I’m sorry, I really don’t remember you. Do we have a class together?”

“Oh, shut up. That party last weekend? The hot tub? I still can’t find my top.”

“I really think you have me confused for someone else,” Bucky said, keeping his face neutral. Something about her seemed off and he didn’t want to cause a scene. “My name’s James Barnes. And you are?”

She looked like she was going to be angry, pink coloring high on her cheeks. But when she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward a bit, her face fell “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You’re right. I totally thought you were someone else! You look _so alike_ it’s scary.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been told I have that face,” he said, knowing it was a lie. He watched her walk away, back to the table she’d been at with a few other girls.

Reed looked around Ben at Bucky, eyebrow raised. “You could have pretended,” he said, earning a nod from Ben. 

“Nah,” Bucky said, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m already on a date with you two. What kind of gentleman would I be to abandon you.”

“A smart one,” Ben grunted. Reed and Bucky laughed before returning to their conversation on the dynamics of runoff management in an urban setting.

*~*~*~*~*

Steve’s art class had ended early, some family emergency stealing their professor, and while several of his classmates stayed to bounce ideas for their semester projects off each other, he was just too tired to stay if he didn’t have to. He didn’t skip classes normally, having too much respect for his teachers, but he took this opportunity to go home, shower, and make it an early night.

It hadn’t surprised Steve to find their dorm room empty. On the nights Bucky went out, his best friend had always made sure Steve was good before disappearing. Sometimes, though less lately, Bucky’d return the next morning, hair a mess, clothes disheveled, marks on his body from someone else’s mouth.

The water was hot as it beat down on Steve’s skin. He’d always taken his showers close to scalding, getting yelled at regularly for using all the hot water before others could take their own. Steve tended to take his showers at night for that very reason. But in the shared bathrooms of the dorms, he could stand there for as long as he wanted, a steady stream of scorching water at his fingertips with no worry of it growing cold. The fact that not many others took showers at night also meant he was the only one in the bathroom. He was thankful for the semblance of privacy.

In the four days since his last nightmare, he’d been unable to shake the feeling of alarm. He didn’t know how or why, but he _knew_ these weren’t the run of the mill Pre-Ascension dreams that the others had experienced; Bucky had told him as much, and Clint and Sam hadn’t mentioned anything near what he’d dreamt.

Steve finished rinsing the shampoo out of his hair before rubbing the conditioner through. Slick water flowed down his body, his fingers sliding over skin. Unbidden, the memory of that night - _after_ his nightmare - came roaring back. Bucky had rubbed the cold washcloth against his neck, hadn’t batted an eye with Steve naked and bare before him. He hadn’t hesitated when he’d suggested Steve share his bed. Wrapped in the circle of Bucky’s arms, Steve had felt safe, despite the darkness that had dominated his mind minutes before.

His hand, covered in slippery conditioner, wrapped around his cock, squeezing as he reached the base before repeating its motion up and down.

Bucky’s grey eyes filled his mind, soft with sleep and concern, his best friend’s pouting lower lip urged his hands on. His breathing grew ragged as he stroked, remembering the weight of Bucky at his back and the warmth of his hips pressed against his ass. Steve’s hand was firm, thumb running over the slit, knowing exactly how to work his body. The sound of slapping water on the tiled floor masked the small noises of want that fell from Steve’s lips as he imagined how Bucky felt pressed against him, pushing into him, bent over and gasping.

He came, fast and quick, biting on his lip to keep from calling Bucky’s name. The water washed everything down the drain, leaving Steve leaning against the wall, water beating down on him, feeling sated but nowhere near satisfied.

*~*~*~*~*

It was later than he’d wanted to get back when Bucky quiety pushed open the door to Steve’s and his room. He was greeted by the sound of Steve’s light snoring and the lamp on his own desk turned down low. He repressed a snort at the sprawl of skinny limbs and fluffy hair that was barely peeking out underneath Steve’s blankets.

Bucky stripped down to his briefs where he stood, then crawled under his own blankets, falling asleep easily between the few beers he’d had with his friends and the steady sound of Steve breathing.

*~*~*~*~*

Steve was moving above him, sunny blond hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at Bucky. The early morning light was grey, the air around them still and quiet except for the sheets rustling, gentle sighs, and moans. Toned muscles moved under rosy skin, Bucky mesmerized by the smooth line of Steve's collar bones gliding into his shoulders. The skin there was already mottled with love bites and would plainly show anyone who saw them that Steve was _his_.

Bucky curled his fingers into the sharp jut of Steve's hips, following the slow roll back and forth. Steve's long fingers dug into Bucky's chest, catching in the dark hair there, tugging as he was used for leverage. He caught lips in his teeth, holding back the sounds of pure pleasure that wanted to escape. He couldn't get deep enough into Steve, could spend all his time getting lost in deep blue eyes framed with dark lashes, hearing his voice go even huskier with their hands on each other. 

“Steve. _Steve, please_ ,” he whispered, wanting to feel Steve move faster as he chased his orgasm. Wanted to feel Steve hot and hard against his stomach, dripping come and sweat. 

Steve leaned over, biting Bucky's lip, then soothing it with his tongue.

“Make me,” he replied against Bucky’s lips, smirking. 

Bucky woke, his hand moving over his cock, coming with Steve's name on his lips.

Steve was fast asleep on his own bed, sprawled with his arm flung over his head, face turned away from Bucky.

Oh. Oh, _shit_.

*~*~*~*~*

Bucky leaned into Darcy’s shoulder. “So?”

“Yeah. Totally. It happened.” Darcy and Bucky had picked up where they’d left off during their last class, heads down conspiratorially as they whispered. “She tried to act like it hadn’t. _Again_. But she’s a horrible liar.”

Clint reached out to ruffle Bucky’s hair, knowing his friend hated it. “How two people can have such tension and deny it is lost on me.”

Sam, who’d been taking a drink, choked back a bit of laughter at Clint’s comment, coughing when it sent him into fits. Clint threw him a smirk as he realized his target had caught what he’d intended.

Steve shook his head as his pencil moved over the paper, trying in vain to capture the scene before him. The four men and Darcy were piled in the common area at the bottom of Fury Dorm, having taken over the TV and DVD player to watch _The Craft_. They were studying the different portrayals of witches in modern movies to chart the change of perspective and understanding. Most of the group had seen it before, so notes were sporadic, if taken at all.

The graphite from his pencil wasn’t his favorite art medium, but he was making do. While most of the features for Clint and Sam were rougher, Steve had spent his time on Bucky’s form. He’d carefully traced the soft upper line of Bucky’s lip, the bit of stubble along his best friend’s jawline, the dark lashes that kissed against cheeks when he blinked. Now if he could just get his hands right, he’d -

He was jostled out of his thought by Bucky’s foot nudging his.

“Earth to Rogers,” he teased. “How are we supposed to get anything written if you’re just doodling and not taking inspiring notes?”

Closing the notebook so Bucky couldn’t see what he’d been drawing, Steve noticed that everyone gathered had turned to look at him. He could feel the slight heat rush to his cheeks. “We don’t really need notes on this, do we? I mean, we’ve all seen it and it looks like Darcy has most of it memorized anyway.”

“Oh, yeah. A movie about mid-nineties goth-lite girls who get the power to rebuild and shape the universe at their whim? Yeah. If you looked back at my sixth grade pictures, you’d see heavy black choker necklaces and unfortunately dark lipstick.”

Clint grabbed a discarded soda can and took aim towards the garbage can. It hit the inside of the rim with a ringing sound. “Well if we’re not going to do any studying, can we do something else? I need to be up and moving. Doing something.” 

Seemingly spurred on by Clint’s words, Sam jumped to his feet. “I agree. it’s too nice outside to stay locked up in here. What about you, Darcy?”

Smiling, Darcy threw her pencil in her open backpack and rose to her knees. “What did you gentlemen have in mind? We _do_ have class tomorrow morning, which severely limits our available activities. But I’m always up for an adventure.”

Bucky glanced over at Steve, raising an eyebrow. “What do you say? Beg off this once?”

Steve sighed, feeling the weight of all four gazes on him. He threw his hands up. “Fine, yes, let’s play outside.” He rolled his eyes when everyone cheered, letting Bucky and Darcy pull him to his feet.

*~*~*~*~*

Steve had stayed in the park, sketching the others as they played frisbee, but claimed the need to do actual work and went back to his room early. Bucky had asked if he’d wanted company back in the dorm, but Steve waved him off. He needed time to think, and it was hard to do it when Bucky was _right there_.

He couldn’t get the feeling of curling up with Bucky out of his head or off of his skin. He’d woken in the middle on the night earlier in the week to find himself wrapped around a reading Bucky. Bucky has just shrugged and said that Steve had been dreaming again, and had settled when Bucky had crawled into the bed with him.

When Steve had tried to extract himself, Bucky had pushed back the smallest bit, insisting that Steve was no bother and he’d been up anyways.

Steve’s sheets still smelled like Bucky’s soap. He turned his head into his pillow, took a deep breath, and groaned. He hoped no one had noticed him staring at Bucky, hoping they brushed it off as him drawing, as Bucky had for years. If anyone looked in his sketch books, they’d see pages of warm-ups, doodles in class, the line of Bucky’s jaw, the interest and _want_ unmistakeable in the lines.

His drawings had always featured Bucky, his best friend; dark features and blue-grey eyes, how the bow in his upper lip dove deep, the beginnings crinkle lines around his eyes when he laughed. He’d drawn the subtle nuances of Bucky forever, his pencil always finding the right etch, the perfect curve, the exact contour. It was like breathing, like air. His heart pumped in his chest, beating out the steady rhythm. _Bucky. Bucky. Bucky._

If anyone saw the things he drew, some straight out of his dreams, he'd be embarrassed. Not because of the art itself, but because his drawings acknowledged things he wasn't ready to accept himself just yet.


	4. One Look At You And I Can't Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: “ _To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves._ ” ― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma
> 
> The group grows tighter as Steve grows taller.

Steve stood staring, wearing nothing but socks and boxers, one hand absently scratching his bicep. His skin _itched_ , everywhere, It felt like stray hairs or spider webs were constantly brushing against odd parts at him, in no discernable pattern or placement. It was driving him insane. 

One of the shirts he’d thrown onto his bed had fallen to join the pile on the floor. Clothes littered his side of the dorm room. Usually disorder didn’t suit him, but with all the changes happening lately, he felt out of sorts.

“Are you starting a new trend, or were we robbed?” Bucky asked from the doorway, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed and a grin dancing on his face. Hopefully teasing Steve would keep him from noticing the way Bucky’s ears had gone a bit warm at the sight of him in barely any clothing.

“Nothing fits, Buck.”

Bucky pushed off the wall, being careful not to step in the piles of cloth. “I know. We all felt it.” He took a long look at Steve, enjoying the small thrill that he was now being allowed to do it under the guise of helping. Steve had been at his chin at the beginning of the semester, now he was just under his nose.“You already look like you’re taller. Maybe an inch or two. It’ll start coming faster now.”

He could tell that Steve wasn’t completely comforted by that thought. Bucky reached out a hand, clasping Steve’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb along his best friend’s clavicle. “It’s not going to change who you are. You’re still going to be same punk you’ve always been. Maybe just a few inseam sizes longer,” he joked lightly. He’d always thought Steve was a bit too morose. Bucky hoped the Ascension would make him feel more at home in his own skin.

It did help some that the other guys had all felt the same as him within the last year. Sam was the oldest, but he had always been the most cool headed of all of them, and Clint and Bucky went through the changes almost at the same time, so they had all been busy trying to support them. Steve had been stuck for months, watching them adjust after their Ascensions, and worried that his own would never come.

Now he was wondering why the frilly hell he had ever thought that. 

“Can I borrow some clothes, at least until I can go shopping?” Steve asked. He needed to get to class. “I really don’t want to be in a four hour studio class with my ass chafing.”

Bucky laughed, not trusting himself to speak right then. Visions of Steve’s ass swam through his head as he pulled a t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts from his dresser and held them out to the smaller man, although from the ways things were going, it wouldn’t be like that for much longer.

“Maybe we’ll only need one dresser, depending on what size you’ll end up.” He watched Steve pull the clothes on and sit on his bed to tie his shoes. “We’re still on for dinner, yeah?”

Steve nodded, stretching his arms until he felt his back pop. Christ, that hurt, and it was just _starting_. “I already texted Darcy. She said Jane might come if she’s not caught up in ‘work’.” Steve grinned. He grabbed his bag from by the door. “I’ll clean this up later, yeah?”

Steve made it to the outside of the building before he stopped, leaning against a tree and closing his eyes. He could still feel Bucky’s eyes on him, could smell the detergent he used, and the woodsy smell that always reminded him of Bucky. Getting through class today was going to be Hell. 

Back in their room, Bucky made a motion with his hand, eyes going black and flame. The clothes went back into the dresser, on shelves, and into the closet. He straightened up the rest of the room by hand, happy to have the distraction. Walking in on Steve in his state of undress had brought on the hunger pains, the ones he’d been trying to ignore for years but that had gotten exponentially stronger since they’d come to Trinity.

He loved living with Steve and couldn’t imagine doing so with anyone else, but lately it’d become hard for him to ignore the feelings swelling within him. He feared eventually he’d slip, let the urge guide him, and he’d break something between him and his best friend. The thought chilled him. He needed a distraction. Changing into sweatpants and a tank, he decided to go for a run. Hopefully the physical exertion would be enough to quiet the thoughts in his head

*~*~*~*~*

Everyone was in the back corner of the dining hall, in what had quickly become their usual spot. It was Thursday night dinner with the latest episode of whatever shitty show they were catching up on. What had always been a group of four - Bucky, Sam, Clint, and Steve - had now expanded to include Darcy and sometimes her friend Jane.

“Dude, no, all I was trying to do was trying to get to the coffee. I thought she was going to kill me with her eyes,” Clint was saying. “I think I might be in love.”

“Were you drinking right out of the carafe, again?” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. 

Darcy paused the fry on its way to her mouth. “Say what?”

“I swear, we’ve tried housebreaking him,” Steve said to Darcy with a small grin, nodding in Clint’s direction. “Remedial classes and everything. It just won’t take.”

“Maybe a shock collar,” Jane suggested from where she was on the other side of Sam. She kept looking at her phone. 

“Hmm. Kinky.”

Grinning at Jane’s idea, Darcy put her chin in her hand. “Which lovely lady has sadly become the target of Barton’s affections?”

“The redhead in our class. Natalia?”

“I thought it was Natasha,” Sam said.

“Whatever it is, when we get married I’ll gladly take her last name. Just feels right.”

Laughing, Darcy reached out and put a hand on Bucky’s arm, nodding her head in Jane’s direction. Bucky was still laughing at Clint, but turned to Darcy and followed her line of sight, suppressing a snort when he saw Jane almost leap out of her seat as her text notification sounded. Darcy snickered behind her hand when Steve leaned to prop his chin on Jane, reading over her shoulder as her fingers flew over the screen. 

“You all right there, Jane?” he asked, his voice all innocence.

She swatted at him with her hand, quickly locking her screen. “Eat an entire bag of dicks, Rogers.”

Everyone erupted in laughter.


	5. I Am Short of Breath Standing Next To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I have something I need to get off my chest.”_  
>  “What’s that?”  
> “This.” He closed his mouth over hers.”  
> ― Kelly Moran, Give Up the Ghost
> 
> Steve and Bucky finally admit their feelings for each other and act on the urges they’ve denied for so long.

**Everybody**  
**Steve:** so the fall Epsilon house party is this saturday. Who’s in?  
**Clint:** these hops do not lie  
**Clint:** hits*  
**Clint:** hips  
**Bucky:** I’ll only go if Sam goes, so my dancing looks better in comparison  
**Sam:** I don’t know what you’re talking about, Barnes. I would murder you on the dance floor  
**Darcy:** I think this gets solved with a dance off, right Clint? Steve?  
**Clint:** I concur with your assessment, Ms. Lewis.  
**Sam:** Oh, it’s so on.  
**Steve:** is bloodshed really the answer here?  
**Steve:** what does the winner get? Are there rules?  
**Bucky:** don’t ruin this with your nerd, rogers  
**Jane:** I’m in, but only if i get to be judge.  
**Jane:** is there a rubric? I need data people  
**Darcy:** We’ll be grading on a bell curve, obviously.  
**Clint:** Totes  
**Sam:** ENOUGH WITH THE ‘TOTES’, BARTON.  
**Sam:** Winner gets to dress the other for a week. Head to toe.  
**Bucky:** Challenge Accepted  
**Darcy:** I think the real winner of this contest will be the world, regardless of outcome  
**Steve:** What have I done  
**Darcy:** i regret nothing

*~*~*~*~*

Clint and Sam were meeting Bucky and Steve outside their dorm, the four of them planning to walk to the party together. Earlier, Sam had sent a snapchat of Clint doing his hair in the common bathroom, cackling when a towel was thrown at him. Darcy and Jane had texted earlier and said that they would meet them at the Epsilon house later since Darcy was taking the chance for some extra hours at work, and she’d probably have to drag Jane away from her research.

Steve was looking forward to the party. He’d been feeling all kinds of out of sorts, and needed to just _do_ something, even if that something was out of the norm for him. He wasn’t any kind of real or particularly graceful dancer, but he usually managed to find someone to dance with when they went out. He tugged on the bottom of his new henley, already worried about it being too tight. Had it been this tight when he‘d bought it? He didn’t think he’d shrunk it in the washer. He tugged it off, rolling his shoulders, and grabbed a random shirt off of Bucky’s pile. They seemed to fit better than anything he had. The fact that they smelled like Bucky had nothing to do with it at all.

Grabbing his wallet and keys, Steve turned to Bucky. He raked his eyes over long, lean lines as Bucky messed with his hair in the mirror. He took in the black jeans hugging Bucky’s thighs and hips, vee neck shirt just the slightest hint of see-through. Bucky must have used some mascara or eyeliner. He did that sometimes, when he was in the mood and they were going out. It made the blue gray of his eyes shine brighter somehow.

Steve cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from the way Bucky’s shoulders moved under the fabric of his shirt. “You just about ready?” His voice was almost normal. 

Glancing once more in the mirror, Bucky turned back to Steve with a nod. “Yeah. Damn! I almost forgot!” Crossing over to his dresser, Bucky pulled a small box out from the drawer and then shoved it in his pocket. 

“What was that?” Steve asked, a questioning look on his face.

Bucky waved his hand in the air, already moving toward the door. “Just something for Darce. Inside joke.” 

As he passed Steve in the small doorway, he couldn’t help how his body rubbed against Steve’s side. An electric thrill ran up and down Bucky’s skin, enough that he actually ran his fingers over his jeans to make the tingling go away. “Let’s go get Sam and Clint. If they make us wait I swear I’ll murder Barton.”

“Well, he wants to look beautiful for his death scene,” Steve replied as they made their way down the stairs, thinking of the redhead Clint’d started chasing after,. “Has he told you anything else about her? You know, like if they’ve actually talked, or where to find his body once she kills him?” Their shoulders brushed as they exited the dorm into the early fall night. The air had a hint of a chill. Steve shivered, but he wouldn’t admit to himself that it was from more than just the change in temperature.

The other boys were waiting for them, Clint taking a last drag on his cigarette before making it and the smoke disappear with a flick of his fingers.

Sam glared at Clint then turned his attention to Steve and Bucky. “Y’all ready to get your moves on? I mean, I’ll make sure to leave you _some_ ladies and gents.” He leaned over to press his fist against Steve’s in greeting. “You actually going to make a move on Darcy tonight?” He asked, throwing a friendly arm over Steve’s shoulders.

“What?” Steve sputtered. “There’s nothing… I… Damn it, Sam.”

Clint laughed at the tone in Steve’s voice, sharing a knowing look with Sam. Their friends could be so oblivious sometimes, so Clint and Sam had learned when to push and when to pull. This was definitely a time to push. Both of them. At each other.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re going to a party. You don’t really know someone until you dance with them,” Bucky said, unable to ignore the small tendril of something - _Hurt? Jealousy?_ \- at Sam’s words. That emotion was replaced with hope seconds later. The fact that Steve was showing an interest in anyone was an improvement. He deserved to be happy, and Darcy was great. She’d fit herself into their group so seamlessly in such a short amount of time. It’d be good for Steve. It’d be good.

Tearing his eyes from Steve’s face, thankful that no one would notice the flush to his cheeks in the cold evening light, Bucky rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Who invited you losers?” Darcy called out to them, squaring her shoulders and flipping her hair dramatically

“Milady!” Clint replied, taking a bow as the girls approached. “How you wound me with your words.”

“I thought you liked it rough, Barton,” Jane said. Their laughter hung in the chilled air.

The six of them converged into one group, following the slowly growing sound of rock and dance music. They made it through the open front door of the Epsilon frat house. Clint immediately peeled off to go upstairs and the five that were left saw him approaching Natasha, the slight woman from their history class. Her hair was almost copper in the low light, curls piled on the top of her head, jeans slung low on her hips. She put her hand on Clint’s shoulder when he leaned down to speak in her ear. However, she _didn’t_ fling him over the railing, which was promising.

 _Godspeed_ , Steve sent to Clint. 

“Drinks? Yes? Drinks.” Sam didn’t wait for anyone to answer his query before he bound toward the back of the house where the kegs could be found. 

The house was crowded, a crush of people filling every room. Avoiding elbows was impossible, but the four left standing there made their way to a small gap in the gathered students. The interior was decorated like every other shared Greek house on a college campus: posters of Starry Night and Albert Einstein covered the walls, and haphazardly hung Christmas lights sent a rainbow of colors around the room.

The music was loud, something with a thumping beat but lyrics that were too drowned out to recognize. Darcy leaned closer to Bucky, having to place her lips on his ear to be heard over the din. “Do you know anyone here besides us?”

“A few people from class, but no one in particular,” he yelled back.

“It seems Steve knows a few people,” she pointed to where the blond had been pulled to join the other students that were dancing.

Bucky turned his gaze to find Steve trying to get out of the dancing, but finally allowing the girl to move his arms with a half-hearted look of defeat on his face. Leaning back into Darcy’s space, Bucky wrapped an arm around her waist as someone tried to push past them toward the door. “I think he knows her from one of his art classes.”

Darcy nodded, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder. “I asked him to show me some of his stuff, but he hasn’t. Is he good?”

“He’s amazing. He just hides it very well. He almost always has smudges of charcoal on his fingers. On his cheeks, too. It’s adorable.”

Darcy hummed in acknowledgement as she grabbed the beer Sam held out to her and Bucky. She took a drink as her eyes followed the movements of people around her, enjoying the press of bodies and music thumping behind her sternum, grinning when Sam moved so she was sandwiched between him and Bucky. “Thanks!“

“Don’t mention it Darce, just save me a dance for later.”

She nodded her head, taking another sip. “You got it.”

*~*~*~*~*

Another set of arms wrapped around Steve from behind. He jumped, then grinned when fingers pinched his side. He turned away from the girl who’d drug him out onto the floor, not even bothering to hide his relief from the person who’d saved him.

“Wanda! You made it!” he yelled at her, pulling her hands above her head to spin her then pulling her closer as the next song began to pump through the speakers. She smelled just the tiniest bit like solder and cinnamon, so he didn’t know if she had come from her studio hours or her kitchen. 

They moved together, grinning, bodies bumping when Steve tripped on his own feet and tangled with hers. Steve laughed as Wanda elbowed someone when they got too close and stepped on her.

The song finally finishing, he found a hole in the throng of people and moved to the side of the room. He pulled her along behind him, hoping to save the next unsuspecting victim from the deceivingly slight woman, heading away from the floor and toward where his friends were nursing their beers.

“Guys, this is Wanda. Wanda, Bucky, Darcy, and - “

“Sam WIlson,” Sam said, jumping forward to take her hand. His eyes had gone wide and a smile flashed across his face when he had seen Steve dancing with her. The smile returned in full force as he moved closer. “Wanna dance?”

Bucky had opened his mouth to greet Steve’s friend but didn’t have the chance before Sam took Wanda’s hand and, without waiting for more than a nod as an answer, pulled her back into the throng of bodies.

“She’s pretty,” Darcy said, smiling when she saw Sam begin to move with the smaller woman, her face sporting an impressed expression as she watched Sam dance.

“She’s that pretty and you give her to Sam? What’s wrong with you?” Bucky asked, fist reaching out to punch Steve in the arm. As his knuckles hit his friend’s bicep, he realized for the first time he could actually _feel_ the difference in Steve’s body. The already firm muscles were… more, the shirt he’d borrowed stretching over larger arms.

“I didn’t _give_ her to anyone, Buck. Wanda’s a friend, not cattle,” Steve said. He swiped Bucky’s beer, taking a few swigs before handing it back to him. He would not think about how Bucky’s mouth had already been on the bottle, about how he would probably taste like hops with the slight hint of orange. “Where’s Jane?”

“I have no idea,” Darcy answered with a frown, hazel eyes scanning the crowd for her friend. “She must have gone to the bathroom or something…”

“That’s fine! I have this to give you anyway,” Bucky yelled, pulling the small box from his pocket. Getting close enough for her to hear him without having to shout, he opened the top of the box and showed her what was inside.

The squeal that came from Darcy was easily heard over the music. Her jumping up and down before throwing her arms around Bucky’s shoulders was unexpected, and Bucky laughed as he hugged her back.

Steve had turned to watch Sam and Wanda, pleased that she hadn’t eaten him alive, but shifted his attention to Bucky and Darcy when she’d squeaked. The feeling of someone punching him the stomach was almost too real, too visceral. He didn’t know what Bucky had done, or what Darcy had said, but the vision of Bucky’s arms wrapped around a clearly happy Darcy stole the air from his lungs. 

They made a pretty picture, all dark hair and pretty, plump lips. Their eyes were both bright, faces just a breath apart. They were talking back and forth animatedly, hands gesturing, full of life and excitement. Suddenly feeling out of place, with the rest of his friends seemingly paired off, and ashamed that it was affecting him as much as it was, Steve turned back toward the crowd, needing to put space between them and himself.

While Darcy was busy texting Jane, Bucky looked around, a slight thrill of alarm when he didn’t see Steve where he’d been a moment before. Eyebrows knitting together, he finally spotted Steve’s familiar whorl of blond, weaving through people who were seated or standing on the stairs that lead to the second floor.

“I’ll be… I’ve got to…”

Darcy waved Bucky off, surprised when someone she knew from work came up. “Go, I’m good here.”

*~*~*~*~*

Steve made his way to a quieter part of the upper floor. He saw Clint on a chair, Natasha sitting in his lap, their heads close as they spoke. Clint’s hand was resting softly on her lower back, thumb moving over the fabric there. Natasha’s fingers were splayed on Clint’s bicep, and Steve had to keep moving, had to find somewhere he could maybe breathe. Just take one full breath and try to clear his head.

Steve ran his hands through his hair, mussing the already sweaty strands. A spot was open near a window in the back corner of a room, some frat brother’s bedroom that was now open to the public. He made his way there, pressing his palms and forehead against the cool glass of a window, trying to suck in the cooler air in the room. 

He didn’t have a right to be jealous, of hurt, or whatever other emotion was making it hard for him to breathe. Darcy had been nothing but amazing since they’d met her, and despite Bucky’s insistence on the subject, Steve’d known it was only a matter of time before she realized one of the others would be a better match. Even so, it stung, thinking of her arms wrapped around Bucky, the grin on Bucky’s face as they whispered back and forth, shared mirth he already wasn’t included in.

Bucky managed to make his way through the crowd, noting a surprisingly alive Clint and Natasha, before he finally found Steve, next to the window, cheeks flushed and pink. It was an attractive sight, but Bucky was more worried why his friend had needed to get away. “Are you alright?” He asked, noting the sweat on Steve’s brow. “Is something wrong? What happened?”

“What’re...what? Why aren’t you downstairs? Dancing? With Darcy? She... and you...” Steve couldn’t make a whole sentence come out. Since when had it gotten this hard to talk to Bucky? His best friend? _That_ much hadn’t changed, had it? “You should be dancing with her, not chasing after me, jerk.”

Blinking in confusion, Bucky tried to decipher what Steve was saying. “Dancing? I’m not… I mean, Darcy is beautiful and amazing, but… that’s not… you and I... “ He struggled with his words, trying to explain the flurry of emotions and thoughts racing through his mind. “I don’t…” He didn’t like the look on Steve’s face, a mask of disappointment and resignation. What had just happened?

“I’ve always been chasing after you, punk.” 

Bucky’s tongue flicked out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

“I.. what?” Steve shook his head and bit his lip, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Nothing was making sense. Bucky had always made sure that Steve was alright before heading off, only to come home smelling like sweat and sex, and someone else’s perfume or cologne on his skin. Why was this different?

He couldn’t really see Bucky’s face, the light coming from the hallway behind him casting his face in shadow and a halo of light formed around his head. He was close enough that Steve could feel the heat of his body. Bucky was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen; he didn’t need the light to know the curve of his brow, the dip in the top of his lips, or the way his cheek bones cut. Bucky’s face was as familiar as his own.

“What’re you saying, Bucky?”

Fear gripped Bucky’s stomach, a million reasons screaming in his head that this was a bad idea. What he said and did in the next few seconds could bring everything raining down on him and break something that he desperately needed. But looking at Steve, the same eyes he’d found himself staring into for years, he couldn’t think of anything else he wanted more. 

Steve was his foundation, the concrete keeping his feet on the ground but also the wind that lifted his head to the sun and sky. He didn’t know who he was if he didn’t have this man at his side. Steve was his. He was Steve’s. That was the simplest truth in the entirely of his world.

Damning himself but throwing up a prayer to anyone that would listen, Bucky grabbed the back of Steve’s neck and crashed his mouth against his best friend’s.

Steve froze, brain shorting out at the feel of Bucky’s lips against his own. One hand went to Bucky’s hip to tug him closer, the other clenching in the soft cotton of his shirt. He felt Bucky’s hand move to fist in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Steve chased after Bucky’s mouth with his own. His lips were soft and slightly chapped, and Steve could taste the beer that they had both been drinking, and the underlying taste of what had to be _Bucky_. His body was firm planes, and a soft dip before the curve of his ass. 

He pulled back just the slightest bit, hand going to Bucky’s jaw, thumb ghosting over skin. 

“Bucky, _Buck_ ,” he whispered against Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky’s heart was beating impossibly fast, the blood in his veins echoing in his ears. He could hear the _thumpthump thumpthump_ as he stared down at Steve with hooded eyes. There was a flush to his cheeks and Bucky could tell he had the same blush color on his own. He knew that the house was still full of people and noise, but other than the words Steve had whispered and the feeling of his his body pressed against his, Bucky wasn’t conscious of anything else.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to breathe out. He saw Steve starting to move away at his words, watched the achingly familiar face start to crumble, but he kept his grip on the back of Steve’s neck, giving him nowhere to go. “Not for that. Never. That was… _Steve_ … I’m just sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”

Focusing on bringing air in and out of his lungs for a bit, almost tasting the clean and fresh scent of the soap Steve used, Bucky closed the distance and pressed his lips again, this time less like a starved man coming up for water - though it did feel like that, _exactly that_ \- and more timid, in case his world was about to be destroyed and he’d never be able to experience this moment again.

Steve felt his stomach drop when Bucky apologized, confused and on the way to broken, when he realized that Bucky's lips were on his again, and Steve could pull Bucky flush against himself. Steve's back hit the wall and he moaned just the smallest bit into Bucky's mouth. 

This was happening. Really happening. This wasn't a dream or getting lost in his head. He was kissing Bucky, _they_ were kissing and Steve couldn't focus beyond that. He tipped his head, darting his tongue out to lick at the seam of Bucky's lips. 

“Don't stop. Please, please don't stop.“

Steve’s words were the permission he’d been looking for, and Bucky let himself do what he’d always been too afraid to. Pressing the entire line of his body against Steve’s, Bucky’s mouth poured over every inch of skin he could. Lips. Cheeks. Jawline. Clavicle. All the places he’d always wanted to touch but convinced himself were forbidden now held his sole and utter attention. The entirety of his world had narrowed down to the man before him and everything else faded into white noise. 

“ _Steve_ ,” he growled, before recapturing his lips. There were so many things flashing through Bucky’s mind, things he wanted to do, to try, to allow himself after all this time. A small nagging part of his consciousness reminded him that they were in a house surrounded by other people and this wasn’t the place to tear Steve’s clothes from his body and figure out _exactly how well_ their bodies fit each others.

Tearing his mouth away, Bucky found himself unable to actually back away from Steve, instead resting his forehead against the other man’s. He was still breathing heavily, almost dizzy with the heady weight of what had finally turned from dreams into reality. “Is... is this okay?”

Steve blinked slowly, hands coming down to rest on the sharp planes of Bucky's hips. 

“Asshole. _Is this okay?_ ” Steve snorted. “You started it.”

He was still laughing as he rolled his hips against Bucky's. He was straining against the zipper of his borrowed jeans, so hard that the friction was not quite enough. He could feel each pulse of his blood intensely focused in his pants. 

“What do you think?” 

He knew they needed to talk, needed to figure out what was going on. Not right now. Right now Steve wanted to feel Bucky against him, didn't want this to end. This could be the only time it happened. This could still be unreal. Or Bucky could come to his senses. 

Steve wasn’t the only one who felt the slight discomfort of constricting pants. Bucky was there, hard and ready against the denim waistband . He’d worn skinny jeans. Why on Gaia’s green earth had he chosen skinny jeans? 

The sounds of the party surrounding them, outside of the lust-hazed bubble they’d been in for the past ten minutes, began to slowly filter back to his ears. He took a casual glance over his shoulder. There were still people in the room, lost in their own thoughts and conversations, but no one seemed to have noticed anything that had transpired.

Turning back to Steve, Bucky took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes. They couldn’t do anything about their current situation where they were. It was very tempting to Use, get them out of the house and back to their dorm as quickly as possible, but they’d come here with friends. There would be questions if they just disappeared.

“Do we go? Stay? Find a closet?” Bucky laughed slightly at his own questions. He’d not felt this love drunk since… well, he’d _never_ felt anything like this. But nobody else he’d been with could cause the butterflies that Steve could. It was like he was a teenager again, fumbling over words with red staining his cheeks.

“Moving. That involves moving, and stopping the touching and the-“ Steve broke off to nip at Bucky's lower lip. His pupils were blown wide, and every sense he had was on overdrive. “Maybe go? Back to the room? We can talk there?” Steve hoped they would do more than talk, but was good with just this, for now, and told Bucky as much. 

Bucky nodded for a good fifteen seconds before he took another deep breath - _how does Steve smell this good?_ \- and experimentally took a step back. The loss of heat as their bodies came apart almost made him audibly complain. Yes. They needed to leave. And go elsewhere. So they could continue this. 

“Talk. Yeah. We might be able to do that.” He grinned, somehow knowing that the smile on his face was goofy and dumb. The thrill of looking at Steve though, no longer having to hide the hunger he felt for the other man, turned darker as his eyes landed on Steve’s lips. His mouth was red where the slight stubble on Bucky’s chin had rubbed. He felt a wave of satisfaction, knowing that he’d been the one to make the mark.

He held out his hand to Steve, lacing their fingers together as they made their way out of the room.

A thrill shot up through Steve's skin at their touch, and he kept sneaking looks at Bucky under his lashes at they left the party, and their friends, and made their way back across campus. 

It had been too long since they’d left the party, since the last time he’d felt the weight of Bucky’s body pressed against his, and Steve had to push Bucky against a tree near the quad, running his mouth along the stretch of Bucky's neck. He sucked under Bucky's left ear, grinning against the warm skin there. 

“Sorry, not sorry.“

“Mmmmm,” was all Bucky could do as a response. Full sentences were impossible, as was the thought of asking Steve to stop anything he was doing. He knew he should worry about how two people, pressed against a tree at night, hands fumbling against each other, would look to strangers, but he just couldn’t. Not when Steve’s tongue was doing That Thing against Bucky’s skin and he could feel the Steve, hot, hard, and ready, pressed against him.

It felt like it took forever to get back to their room, taking several stops along the way to pepper kisses and teeth and tongue against each other when it became unbearable to go any further without some sort of body contact. Bucky, despite not realizing it fully, had been waiting for _years_ to do this, _to be this_ , with Steve.

It felt fast, but his relationship with Steve was so old, so deep, that it felt like they’d already been together for years. Jumping straight into this, into being physical after all these years… it would have been too fast with anyone else. For this, for him and Steve? It was time. All he wanted was this man’s body against his own. Now.

Floundering in his attempts to get the key in the lock to their room, Bucky finally had to tear his face away, a frustrated growl passing his lips when it was taking much too long to get inside and finish what they’d started at the party.

Steve followed as Bucky pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him with his foot. 

“I know, I know we need to talk, but I'm going to die if I can't touch you. Can I touch you? Is that alright?” Steve's hand played with the hem of Bucky's shirt, fingers rubbing against the skin right above the line of his jeans. 

“Fuck. Yes.”

Steve grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and Bucky helped him pull it up and over his head, tossing it somewhere in the low lit room. It became a race to see who could get the most clothes off the quickest. Shoes were toed off, buttons loosened, and in a very short amount of time, the two of them were in their underwear - Bucky’s boxer briefs a slate grey, Steve’s boxers a deep blue - and their skin came together wherever it could. 

_Hot_ was a word Bucky would have used to describe it, but it didn’t come close to accurately explaining it. Steve’s skin felt like flames and everywhere Bucky touched made him want more. Bucky pushed them backward toward his bed, stumbling as they fell back onto it, his body poised over Steve’s. 

Bucky was all long lines and firm limbs, the light dusting of dark hair tickling against Steve's chest. Everything burned where they touched, actual bits of power sparking where their hands were still joined. Steve laughed, light, running his fingers down Bucky's back while slotting his thigh between Bucky’s. 

“You're amazing, have I ever told you that?” He whispered against Bucky's skin, nipping between each word. 

Alternating between kissing and being kissed, Bucky hummed his approval of everything, biting his lip when Steve’s head dipped down to lick the long column of his throat. Bucky’s hands moved down Steve’s body, fingers caressing his ribs before grabbing his ass and grinding, which earned him a hiss.

“How did I ever stop myself from doing this before?” Bucky asked, tongue wetting his lips as he pushed a bit of hair away from Steve’s forehead. “Years. Have you… All this time, too?”

Steve closed his eyes, biting his lip and trying to think. He couldn't keep his hips from stuttering up into Bucky, finding any friction he could. He felt like he could do this forever. 

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve opened his eyes to search his face, seeing how Bucky was looking down at him. Like he was … everything. “I think probably always. But why would you look twice at me?”

Bucky’s eyes took on a defensive look. “Hey. Don’t do that. You’re amazing. Too good for me. For anyone.” He closed the distance and pressed a soft, earnest kiss to Steve’s lips. “I was afraid it would change things. You’re my best friend, punk. Can’t go on without you. Wouldn’t want to.”

His hands couldn’t seem to get enough of Steve, running over and over his skin as if this were going to fade, ending with him waking up in the middle of the night, skin slick with sweat, hard against his sheets, as he looked over at Steve in his own bed, sleeping and oblivious to the storm of want swelling inside of Bucky.

Steve felt himself flush even further, the blush on his cheeks spreading down his neck and onto his chest. How was this real? “You’re my best friend. Always have been. Don't plan on changing that,” his breath coming in short gasps as Bucky ground against him. “I'm - you’re - _fuck_.”

Bucky’s new goal had just become making Steve gasp and moan and hiss. Every sound seemed to cement this new reality a little bit more. 

“You’re mine,” Bucky growled against his neck, hands reaching between their bodies to grab Steve through his boxers, squeezing along the full, hard length of him. The sharp intake of breath was a small reward for catching Steve off guard. He pulled Steve’s lower lip between his teeth, biting softly before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

Bucky's mouth followed the line of Steve's jaw, down the side of his neck until it met his shoulder. He worried it with teeth and tongue, bruising Steve. He wanted something tangible, marking Steve so they would both know this was happening. 

Steve couldn't concentrate between Bucky's hands and mouth and the sinful way he was rolling his dick against Steve’s. He ran his nails down Bucky’s back, hissing Bucky's name. “You're gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he groaned. “Don't you dare fucking stop.”

The tone in Steve’s voice made Bucky’s pulse raise faster, spurred on at the encouragement. He reached under Steve’s boxers and wrapped his hand around warm skin, his hips moving in rhythm. Both of their breathing was labored, the sighs and moans filling the darkness of their room.

“Will you? Come for me,” Bucky hissed, the comment almost bordering on a command. “Steve, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen. I want to watch your face as you fall apart.”

The eyes above him were grey and so full of everything that Steve felt dizzy, like a feather, like he was floating. Bucky was looking at him and it felt like the entire world was holding its breath, waiting, poised on the edge, preparing for release. Steve watched as Bucky’s tongue bit at his lower lip, eyes imploring. He said _‘come for me’_ one more time and Steve lost it.

Oh, _shit, fuck_ , Bucky’s hand and his mouth, and his goddamned words had Steve exploding into Bucky’s hand, muscles tensing and everything coming to focus on Bucky’s face above his. 

Steve’s face was everything Bucky had imagined and so much more. The look of complete abandon on the blond’s face had Bucky on the precipice, and it just took a whisper of his name from Steve’s lips for him to follow behind, crashing, hips thrusting against Steve’s who cried out with every push. He collapsed on top of the smaller man, breathing heavy, eyes closed. Satiated. Satisfied. Content.

“Damn, Rogers. Damn.”

“Back at you,” Steve huffed. He opened his eyes, trying to focus on Bucky’s face, when he started laughing. Cutting off Bucky's look of befuddlement, Steve nodded down, where the two of them were floating six inches above the bed. “We’re not stiff as a board anymore, but we're certainly light as a feather.”

The look on Bucky’s face was nothing short of stupefied. It took him a few seconds to tear through the haze of gratification to understand what Steve had meant, but when it finally clicked, he let out a loud groan as they dropped the few inches to the bed and he rolled onto his side beside Steve. “Really? Of all the things to say, you chose a veiled illusion to a mid-nineties movie about a bunch of wannabe witches? Shame.”

“Dude, we were literally floating above the bed. It seemed appropriate at the time “ Steve replied, flicking a finger and using a hit of power to clean them both off. Their eyes met, both of them wearing the same dazed look. Steve laced their fingers together, and grinned.


	6. If My Heart Was A House You’d Be Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I Wanna Hold Your Hand.’ First single. Fucking brilliant. Perhaps the most fucking brilliant song ever written. Because they nailed it. That’s what everyone wants. Not 24-7 hot wet sex. Not a marriage that lasts a hundred years. Not a Porsche or a blow job or a million-dollar crib. No. They wanna hold your hand. They have a feeling that they can’t hide._ ” ― Rachel Cohn, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist
> 
> Steve enlists the group for help with his art project, and he and Bucky take advantage of an empty studio.

“Well, well, well, someone had a good time last night,” Sam called from across the diner. He waved a hand at Steve and Bucky as they made their way over to their usual table.

Clint peered at Bucky and grinned, immediately noticing the ring of purpling hickeys on his neck. “Wow, that's quite a mark you're sporting there. Get in a fight with a Dyson?” He pushed back in his chair, balancing on just two legs. 

Bucky’s eyes flashed black for a second and suddenly Clint was falling backward. He managed to catch himself on the table, but a large number of heads turned their way, a few people laughing at the loud noise. 

“Unfair!” Clint said, picking his chair back up. “Cheater.”

Sliding into the chair next to Sam, Bucky threw a glare Clint’s way before turning to Sam. “Keep him in check, Wilson.”

“I’ve been trying to do that for years and it hasn’t stuck yet. You think that’ll change?” The snort from Sam was heartfelt, as was the smile he leveled at his friends.

“You and Natasha looked pretty cozy. It looks like you have all of your limbs,” Steve commented, looking at Clint, grinning when he glared at Steve.

“I am a gentleman knight, ever entranced by my lady fair. Of course I have all of my limbs,” Clint said defensively. “We had a nice conversation, we’re building our home in the south of France, and our kids will be amazing. You’ve just got to give me more time to get in there. Work on her a little more. I'll grow on her. Like a chia pet.”

“If anything, it looked like she was working _you_ , friend.”

“She is a goddess, and I am truly unworthy.”

Clint turned to Steve, moving the conversation away from himself. “Do you take turns using your room or did you go back to _his_ place, Rogers? Or did you have different socks in the knob?”

“Socks? What is this, the 1980s?” Bucky asked, reaching out to steal a chip from Sam’s plate.

“I want to know what Sam thought of Wanda,” Steve added with a small grin. He’d hoped that the two of them would be interested in each other. From what he remembered on the dance floor, they’d both looked like they enjoyed themselves. He’d have to ask Wanda during their next class together for more detail.

“As if there was any question? We had a great time. She brought me my drink, dazzled me with her intense imitation of Anderson Cooper, and said she'd see me around. Wouldn't let me walk her back to her room, but emailed me to let me know she’d gotten home safely,” he said. Sam was a gentleman, for all that he was an inveterate flirt, and his Nana would never make him her famous biscuits if he ever treated a lady or gentleman friend with anything less than respect. 

“But no changing the subject. I saw Darcy with some guy, and Clint with his Russian tsarina, but didn't catch you guys leaving. Meet any pretty ladies? Handsome gents?”

Ignoring Sam’s question for the time being, Bucky frowned at Sam’s words. “Darcy was with some guy? Did she get home okay? I texted her this morning but she didn’t respond.”

“She’s fine,” Sam assured Bucky, “I saw her with Jane earlier. They had books out so she’s probably just in her study bubble.”

Bucky nodded for a second, glad that she’d gotten home safely. He hasn't meant to ditch her but there had been Things. Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked over at Steve. “You going to answer Clint’s question? Who was it you went home with last night?” 

_Ugh. Uuuugh. This is the absolute best. And worst._ Steve thought, grinning to himself.

Steve had almost been successful in convincing Bucky to skip Sunday morning brunch and instead curl up around each other in bed. Bucky still looked all sleep rumpled, his hair even wilder than usual. The low vee of his shirt showed the marks Steve had left. Now that he could touch, Steve was almost vibrating with the need to crawl all over him. 

“Just some guy, you guys may have met him before,” Steve finally said. 

“What?”

“Who?” Sam and Clint exclaimed at the same time. 

_You’re such a trolling shit_ , Bucky sent to Steve.

“What, you want us to guess? Um… That guy Peter from your art class?” Sam, in true Wilson fashion, didn’t let Steve answer before words vomited from him. “That girl... What’s her name? Oh! Betsy? The one that’s always wearing purple?”

“Your RA. The janitor. Oh! That guy who lives down the hall and has that really ridiculous haircut?”

Clint’s guesses were just never quite as good. 

“You guys are both ridiculous,” Bucky said with a shake of his head. 

Steve laughed before leaning over and pressing his lips gently against Bucky's. He could feel Bucky's hand lifting to rest on his shoulder, and Steve had to stop himself from pressing for more. 

“It’s about damned time,” came from Sam, while a large _**‘whoop!’**_ was heard from Clint’s direction.

Bucky hadn’t been sure how Steve wanted to play it, but he was glad that there wouldn’t be any hiding. The boys had never been good keeping things from each other, but Bucky was beginning to think they’d known he had feelings for Steve, probably before he’d even known it about himself.

Grinning, a slight warmth in his cheeks due to the feeling of Steve at his side, Bucky turned back to see Clint stand, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet and produced a fifty-dollar bill, heaving a large, dramatic sigh before he handed it to Sam. “I was so close.”

“Close, but not close enough, my friend.”

“What?” Bucky asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“I said you’d make it to winter break,” Clint said with a wistful sigh, “Sam said before. Damn.”

“I’m telling you, when it comes to matters of love, don’t challenge me. You’ll go down, every time,” Sam chastised, sticking the money in the pocket of his jacket.

“You guys are _fucking_ ridiculous,” Steve said happily.

*~*~*~*~*

**Group chat**  
 **Steve:** hey. Guys. Can we do something different for dinner tomorrow?  
 **Steve:** I need to start working on my final project.  
 **Steve:** I promise non-weird take out and not pizza if you’ll let me draw you like a French girl  
 **Sam:** . …  
 **Steve:** clothes! Clothes!  
 **Clint:** In that case, I’m out  
 **Bucky:** ‘Good’ take out? There’s bad take out?  
 **Sam:** I’m studying for my Loss  & Trauma class  
 **Steve:** Clint?  
 **Clint:** I’ll be stalking Natasha  
 **Darcy:** You realize that’s super creepy, right?  
 **Clint:** It’s part of my charm.  
 **Darcy:** Yeah. That’s not how it works. I’ll try to make it  
 **Steve:** pout. It's just for an hour. You just have to lie there  
 **Steve:** bring Natasha. The more the more  
 **Darcy:** “you just have to lie there” the name of Clint Barton’s sex-tape  
 **Bucky:** Maybe if you bring her we’ll be able to help you close  
 **Clint:** I’m playing the long game, guys. 60% of the time it works all the time.  
 **Jane:** I can confirm that your math does not work out  
 **Steve:** so that's 6? At 730? I can get studio space then  
 **Clint:** If you ruin this for me, Rogers…  
 **Sam:** Have you looked in a mirror? If anyone’s going to ruin it, it’s your face  
 **Clint:** How dare you. I am a national treasure  
 **Darcy:** You do kind of remind me of NIcholas Cage  
 **Clint:**

*~*~*~*~*

Steve’s camera stand was set up, ready for when he could starting taking reference shots of the group. He didn't need everyone to actually _pose_ for hours, he just wanted to play with geometry and shapes, curves versus angles, darkness versus light. He was pretty sure the piece was going to end up some kind of mural, and he was glad that the professor had limited them to one media, or he’d get scattered, try to cram more in than was necessary. As of now, he was going to stick with charcoals.

Maybe.

Probably.

He cast a look around the clean studio space. Everything was ready. He heard his stomach growl, angry that he hadn’t eaten something in the last hour, which is what he’d found he needed when he wasn’t sleeping. It was ridiculous, but at least the Chinese food was set to show up any minute. 

Steve’s blue gaze focused when Darcy stuck her head in the door. She was sans her usual hat, so her hair was wild and curling around her face. A wide smile broke out on his face at the sight of her. She _oofed_ when he pulled her into a tight hug. “Thanks so much for coming!”

Darcy hugged him back. “Of course. Anything to help with your project,” she said, pulling back with a smile. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to talk to Clint’s latest obsession.” Dropping her bag on the ground unceremoniously, Darcy crossed to the table and grabbed one of the bottles of water that’d been put out. “I’m shocked I’m the first one here…”

“Almost first,” Bucky said, pushing into the room, arms laden with pillows he’d stolen from the common area in the lobby of the art building. He threw them on the ground in a pile, ready and waiting for sitting. The room was large and open, plenty of space for whatever art project the students could create. 

He crossed the floor and hugged Darcy, enjoying the squeak she made when he lifted her off her feet and spun her. “ _Where have you been?_ ”

“Around,” she said, laughing. “You know how it is. Essays. Tests. School stuff. Add in work and it’s been a busy few weeks.”

“Missed seeing you outside of class,“ Steve said. It was true, even while in the haze of _BuckyandSteve_ , he'd missed her company. 

She smiled back at Steve. Sam clattered in next, texting on his phone, bag over his shoulder half open. Steve could see the normally organized folders starting to fly out of the bag, and Sam caught them with a flick of power. . He wasn’t normally that casual of a User, especially since they all knew the risks of using too much.

“I'm just here for take out and very intense reviewing. No fun is to be had.”

“Aww, fun sucker,” Clint called from behind Sam, followed by the delivery guy holding delicious, steaming, not-dining-hall food. 

“I’ve heard that about you,” came a lightly accented reply. 

Three heads turned slowly toward the low, almost gravelly voice, shock overcoming the boys faces. Darcy covered her own shock by taking the bags of delivery from the man wearing an unfortunate yellow and red uniform. “You wanna sign for this, Steve?” she asked, before looking back to the redhead. “Hi, Natasha. Nice to see you out of history.”

Blushing, sure he’d been staring at Natasha in surprise, Steve scribbled something resembling his signature on the receipt. “Uh, hi Natasha.”

Up close, Natasha was even prettier, which was a whole different kind of intimidating. Darcy took the food and set it on the table, turning to the remarkable woman with a grin. “Now don’t get scared, but you have this guy to your left. He’s blond, loves pizza, and seems to have developed an unhealthy obsession with the color purple. Don’t make any sudden movements, and for the love of all that is holy, don’t let him sing to you. It’s terrifying.”

Laughing, Bucky started sifting through the bags with Darcy, pulling out the cartons and various accoutrements. “I think she’s aware of that, Darce.”

“I just had to go on the record. Blink once if you’re safe and two if you’re terrified and need rescued,” Darcy said, looking to Natasha with a friendly smile as she pulled out the dumplings.

Natasha just let one side of her lips quirk up. She blinked three times, very slowly and obviously, green eyes crinkling just the smallest bit at the corner. “Yeah, but have you _seen_ his arms?”

Clint grinned from behind Natasha, bouncing like an excited puppy.

_See, I told you, all of you, that my sweet techniques would woo my Slavic temptress._

Rolling his eyes, Bucky gestured for everyone else to come in and sit. He knew that Steve had to be starving now that the Power was starting to run even stronger through him. He had grown more, filled out more, and they were certainly burning enough calories by getting their hands and mouths on each other at every opportunity.

After having settled themselves around the piles of food on the floor, the only clean bit that wasn’t covered with the detritus of creativity, Steve started to explain what he was trying to accomplish with his project. Everyone seemed on board and he hoped everything would go as easily as he hoped.

He was laughing at something Clint said when he reached for the carton of orange and sesame chicken, fingers brushing against Darcy’s as she grabbed for the same. When she grinned at him, lips crooked and eyes bright, Steve felt his ears go hot, pink tinting his cheeks. “No, you first, Darcy, or I won’t pay attention and there’ll be none left.”

Darcy laughed, grabbing the carton from him. “I’ve noticed that. I’ve heard of the _’Freshman Fifteen’_ but I guess I didn’t about about the _Junior ‘I grew four inches in one semester’_.”

Clint choked a bit at her words, a piece of rice going down the wrong pipe leaving him coughing loudly. Sam helped by reaching out and slapping him hard on the back. “You okay there, hot shot?”

“Yep. Mmmhmm. I’m fine.”

 _Guess Darcy’s noticed a few things_ , Clint sent to the other boys, his voice in their heads not hiding his mirth.

It looked like the boys were having one of those silent conversations, all eyebrows and eyes, shoulder shrugs and almost formed words.

_Again._

Steve and Bucky were bright red, and Clint and Sam were snorting into their boxes of rice. 

Used to this after months of knowing them, Darcy continued eating her food, turning to the newest member of the group. “So, Natasha, Clint has been derelict in his information-gathering duties. He would make a horrible spy. What are you majoring in?”

“I’m getting my bachelors in fine arts. Right now my focus is ballet, but I plan to be a choreographer and artistic director.”

“Wow,” Darcy said, eyes widening a bit, “that sounds like a lot of work.” 

“I told you. She’s brilliant.” Clint was practically beaming with pride. Natasha smiled at Clint’s words, chopsticks stabbing into the carton to grab another water chestnut.

“I’d love to see you dance sometime,” Bucky said, ignoring Sam’s laughter in his head. “Do you have any performances coming up?”

“Oh! Yeah! I’d love that, too. Make sure to tell me, we can all go!” Darcy said with a bright smile.

Bucky grinned. “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “If that’s alright with you, Natasha?”

Once the food was gone and everyone was sufficiently stuffed, Steve spent the next hour or so directing and moving his friends around into various combinations, really playing up the contrasts. Surprisingly, Natasha and Clint moved very well around each other, with very little direction needed from him. It was almost like a dance, he realized, using his camera as an excuse to watch them interact. All of them seemed comfortable, really, willing to put up with whatever weird thing he wanted them to do.

Steve enjoyed the juxtaposition between Darcy and Natasha. They were of the same height, but the way they held themselves and their shapes were completely different. Natasha was grace, body stretching, using every muscle she had when she moved. A dancer, even without pointe shoes. Lithe.

He ended the session with all of them doing silly things, like jumping in the air or making faces. He was able to throw himself in for some shots, using the timer on the camera, excited to see how everything turned out. Just looking on the small viewer on the back of the camera was not going to give him a good enough idea, but he now had a more concrete idea of what he wanted to do for his final project. 

After thanking them for their time and saying goodbyes, Steve moved to pack up his camera and bag. Bucky was lounging on the couch, slouched down and legs spread. He loved watching Steve work, seeing him direct people, completely in his element. It had taken considerable self control throughout to not throw Steve down and kiss him senseless.

“You got a little something on your face there, Steve. C’mere,” he said, beckoning him with the curl of a finger. 

“You're just _now_ saying something? Thanks for nothing.“ Steve made his way over, rubbing a hand over his face, catching on the beginnings of stubble along his jawline. “How ‘bout now?”

“Can’t see that far,” Bucky said, using one foot to catch Steve by the leg and pull him closer.

Steve grinned, figuring out Bucky's game, then pressed his lips against the other man’s. “How ‘bout now?” 

Bucky pulled Steve on top of him, Steve's hips settling between his spread legs. He ran his hand into Steve's short hair, tugging his head to the side so he could follow the line of Steve's neck with his teeth.

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of this man, with his slightly calloused hands and pouted lips. When Bucky tugged on the bottom of his shirt, he moved enough so it could be pulled over his head. He’d reserved the studio for the next hour and they’d already cleaned everything up. He wasn’t in a rush, which meant he could savor the way Bucky’s lips moved down his chest, tongue circling his nipple.

Bucky grinned against Steve’s chest when his hair was pulled slightly, taking it to mean Steve appreciated what he was doing. Steve’s small hum of want vibrated against him, the feel of skin and the scent of charcoal dominating Bucky’s senses.

Darcy had gotten to the lobby before she reached in her purse, pushing things aside to find her keys. When she didn’t find them in the mess, she growled in frustration. Figuring she’d either forgotten them upstairs or they’d fallen out of her bag, she retraced her steps, eyes peeled on the stairs in case she’d dropped them there.

Not finding them, she slung her bag back over her arm and pushed through the door to the studio. “Sorry, I must have forgotten…”

The words from her mouth froze, as did her body. Her eyes took in the scene before her and for a second she didn’t put together what she’d walked in on. 

She saw the long, lean silhouette of Steve, his skin bared, his body facing away from her. His head was thrown back, and she could hear a small whimper echo in the large and empty room. There were a set of hands digging into his hips, and she managed to catch a head of auburn hair as it moved behind him.

“ _Oh!_ ”

Bucky's head popped up on the other side of Steve, hair mussed, color high on his cheeks. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, as he tried to get his brain to function. He saw a frozen Darcy standing in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Uh, hi, Darcy,” he squeaked, not quite meeting her eyes, “uh, what did you forget?”

 _I'm going to die. Right here._ Steve thought, feeling flames lick into his cheeks. He couldn’t work up the nerve to look over his shoulder at her, couldn’t even swallow past the lump in his throat.

“Keys!” Darcy squeaked, her voice higher than it normally was. She looked down at her feet, eyes wide, coughing in an effort to make her voice more normal, cheeks turning red.

“Keys,” she said again, as if he hadn’t heard her the first time. “Yep, just forgot my keys. No big deal. I’m sure they’re here somewhere.” 

Bucky’s hands squeezed Steve’s hips, helping him move to the side so he wasn’t straddling him any longer. Seeing the mortification on his lover’s face, he tried his best to appear normal enough for the both of them. “Need help?”

“What? No. They’re here. Somewhere. They have to be.” 

Darcy started digging through the pile of pillows in the middle of the room, brightly colored cotton being thrown in the air as she frantically searched. 

A pink-skinned Steve very carefully avoided her eyes as he tugged his shirt on over his head. 

Bucky had moved toward her but stopped when she looked up at him, almost like she was an animal and he was doing his best not to spook her. “Are you alright?” he asked, hand stretched out to help her up from the floor.

“ _Yes_! Thanks for the food. You guys have fun. I mean! Have a good rest of the night.” She backed up as she spoke, jumping when her back hit the table, sending a few empty water bottles onto the floor. “I’m sorry,” Darcy managed, bending down to grab them and her purse. “I’ll take these with me. I’ll see you guys on Tuesday? Yes. Okay. Bye! Bye!”

Watching her fly from the room, Bucky took a second before slowly turning back to look at Steve, his best friend pinker than Bucky had ever seen him. “That was…. Yeah.”

“I’m actually going to die of embarrassment. That. She. Oh, _my god_ ,” Steve said, eyes rolling to the ceiling. That wasn’t the way he’d wanted anyone to see them, especially Darcy, since they hadn't really figured out all of _this_ yet. He reached down to adjust himself in his too tight jeans, heat sparking everywhere under his skin. 

Bucky crossed the space and wrapped his arms around Steve from behind. He could feel the heat of Steve’s skin through his clothes, both from embarrassment and the change. Bucky rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, sighing. “No, not the best way for her to find out. But she would have, eventually. I’m surprised Clint and Sam hadn’t ‘accidentally’ said something to her.”

Standing there, thinking about what had just happened, Bucky’s desire had waned just a little bit. “Do you think we should call? Text? Send a bouquet of ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry you walked in on us’ flowers?”

“Flowers and chocolate. Ma always said they come hand in hand. She likes lilies, right? No. Tulips.” Steve sighed, turning in the circle of Bucky's arms. 

“Speaking of two lips,” Bucky grinned into Steve’s neck, snickering as he felt more than heard Steve’s groan of indignation.

“Ugh. That was so awful.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.” Bucky’s thoughts turned from embarrassment to the man in front of him, and just like that, his desire was rekindled. How was he so affected by Steve? How had he ever had the willpower to deny what he felt for him? It was like an ocean, vast and endless, but not terrifying. Calm. _Right_. “You’re a little amazing, did you know that?”

“Me? What about you? I think you win the amazing title between the two of us.”

“Hey, no, don’t do that, Steve,” Bucky said as he turned Steve to face him. “Look at the beauty you made tonight. You literally made something out of nothing.”

“Bucky -”

“You have no idea how often I wanted to shove everyone out of this room and show you how fucking turned on I am. Jesus, Steve, watching you do your thing? Really _really_ does it for me.”

Steve’s voice was smaller than he would have liked. “Yeah?”

“Every time you take charge?” Bucky’s hands gripped Steve’s waist and pulled him closer.  
“Every time you get that look in your eye, like you’re in your element and know _exactly_ what you need done? And you’re not afraid to ask for it?”

Bucky reached up and cupped Steve’s cheek, thumb swiping over the arch. “Everything about you….” He pressed his lips to Steve’s, soft and gentle, heavy with emotion that couldn’t be conveyed with words.

Steve softened in Bucky’s arms, returning the kiss slowly, carefully, with meaning and heat. He shivered as he slipped his hand under Bucky’s shirt to run his fingers gently over the warm skin of his lower back. He could feel Bucky’s hum of approval, and Steve just pressed his hand to pull them closer together. No matter how tangled they ended up, it was never enough.

Pulling back slightly, Steve placed gentle kissed up Bucky’s jaw to his ear. “Want you. Feel like I could burn up from wanting you. Not just this,” Steve rubbed his cheek against Bucky’s. “But _everything_.”

His heartbeat sped up at the nearness, the _warmth_ of Steve’s body pressed against his. Bucky captured Steve’s mouth again, his tongue sliding against Steve’s lips, asking for entrance. Steve opened for him and Bucky deepened the kiss, pulling him closer, desperate for the slide of skin on skin.

The door wasn’t locked, but Bucky didn’t care. There was no stopping now, nothing but Steve and the desire flooding through his body. It was nothing to grab the hem of Steve’s shirt and pull it away from him, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, mouth seeking, lips pressing to Steve’s neck, tongue tasting.

Need shot through Steve, electric and sharp, and he tugged Bucky down to the pillow covered floor. He let go of Bucky long enough for his shirt to join Steve’s before crashing their mouths together, hands wandering Bucky’s bared skin, muscles sleek and toned, moving against Steve. He didn’t care that they could be walked in on, again, or that Bucky moaned his name when Steve drew Bucky’s nipple between his teeth and tugged gently.

“God, you taste good,” Steve said against Bucky’s chest, nipping at his collarbone. 

Bucky’s eyes were closed, lips parted as Steve kissed a path down his body. His jeans were uncomfortably tight and his cock strained against the zipper, hard and thrumming with need. He ran his fingernails down Steve’s back, digging in _just_ enough that he knew there’d be angry red lines on his skin, marking him, making him feel it. He heard Steve hiss against his stomach, chuckling softly. “Like that?”

“You know I do,” Steve rumbled. “I love being marked by you. ‘M yours, and it’s there.” Fuck, each touch was making Steve spark with desire and want, all of it because of Bucky. He moved his hands from Bucky’s hips to flick open the button of his jeans and slowly slide down the zipper.

Steve thought he was going to shoot off in his pants without being touched. Bucky wasn’t wearing anything underneath his jeans. Just bare skin and freckles, neatly trimmed hair and cock already leaking. 

“Fuck. That’s hot. I wouldn’t have been able to get shit done if I’d known you were like this,” Steve groaned before licking a long stripe up Bucky’s cock, the tip of his tongue playing with the foreskin and slit, loving the sweet and salty taste that was _Bucky_.

A sound clawed its way from the very center of Bucky, watching as Steve stretched his lips and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, blue eyes flicking up to look at him. Steve was beautiful all the time, heart stoppingly beautiful, but when he was running his tongue along the soft velvet length of him, Steve’s blue eyes gazing up to watch his face as he reacted to every movement, he was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen.

“Fuck, Steve, you feel so good,” he gasped, his hips pumping upward, unable to keep his body from responding.

An honest to goodness whine slipped out of Bucky’s lips when Steve moved off of Bucky to crawl up his body, shucking his pants and underwear on the way. He used his hands to push Bucky back down, tugging his jeans off before Steve settled against Bucky, their legs twining. Steve felt the hair on his arms stand when Bucky rolled his hips up against Steve, fingers sharp against one hip, the other tugging in Steve’s hair to pull him down to press their lips together again.

Steve licked into Bucky’s mouth, rubbing their tongues together, pulling back to nip on that mobile upper lip before plunging forward again.

Everywhere Steve touched him hummed with energy, each slide of skin on skin drawing him higher. Bucky reached between their bodies, wrapping his hand around both of them, already slick with precome. They groaned in unison, bodies moving in tandem. All Bucky knew was Steve, the weight of his body, the press of his tongue, the goosebumps traveling up and down his arms. 

Bucky stretched his neck, mouth panting against Steve’s neck, teeth biting at the cord that ran up from his shoulder, his face fitting against him perfectly, like it was made specifically for him, just like the rest of Steve’s body. Made for him, for _this_.

Every time they came together, Steve marvelled at how easy it was, how easy and right this felt, and he was drunk on Bucky. 

He panted into Bucky’s neck, not capable of words, too wrapped up in feeling the slide of his body against Bucky’s. How their hips moved in tandem, their thighs brushing together, their breathing almost in sync. He was so close, hovering right at the edge of orgasm, wanting this feeling to last forever. He interlaced his fingers with Bucky’s free hand and pushed it over his head, causing Bucky’s body to bow and his head to fall back.

“So goddamed beautiful when you’re like this.”

Hips jutting upward into Steve, every push a new level of desire, every breath falling from his lips as some kind of prayer. “ _Steve_ ,” he gasped, “close!” When Steve bent forward, drawing his earlobe between his teeth and pressing _just_ enough that it crested toward pain, Bucky spilled himself, warm and sudden and hard enough to steal his breath. Wave after wave crashed into him, until he was a babbling mess, still bucking into Steve.

Seeing Bucky lost in pleasure, then feeling the physical reality of it pushed Steve over that edge, and he came, hard, Bucky’s hand still moving and his body still hitching up into Steve’s. Little black spots danced at the edge of his vision, and Steve wasn’t sure he had all of the feeling in his limbs.

“Mmmm. So good. More. Nghnn,” Steve got out as he collapsed into Bucky, bringing their still joined hands to his lips.

Bucky’s arm wrapped around Steve, feeling the thin sheen of sweat that covered Steve’s back. He panted, hand brushing up to Steve’s neck then back down onto the swell of his ass, then started the circuit all over again.

“Gimme a minute,” Bucky laughed, the tiniest hint of tiredness in his voice. “Gotta catch my breath.”

“Not now. God. Still can’t really feel my toes. And someone’s probably waiting to use the studio.”

“I’m glad you’re finally getting laid Rogers, but some of us have work to do!”

“Like you haven’t done the same thing Wade!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: Once again, we have to squee about the amazing art that Alby made for us! Darcy’s sketch is _amazing_ and so pretty and perfect and we love it so!


	7. We're All Right Where We're Supposed To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Happiness is a warm puppy._ ” ― Charles M. Schulz
> 
> Darcy enlists the boys help at the animal shelter.

Steve couldn’t help but be comfortable in his well-worn clothes. They weren’t his, not molded to his body from long and familiar wear, but he couldn’t bear the thought of wearing brand new clothes in the studio. He was thankful for the thrift store in town; two pairs of worn jeans and a few t-shirts for under ten bucks. The shirt he had on was already covered in oil paint, and the jeans had a hole in the knee from where he’d tripped and fell in the hallway. 

He was happier than a pig in mud.

Rock music played from Steve’s iPod, just loud enough to drown out the sounds of students working in other studios. He didn't know how long he’d been working on this piece, but he had hit one of those times where his focus was hypersensitive, and he had to work to get everything out of him before his fingers forgot what they were supposed to do.

He was working on a diptych. He’d stretched his own canvas (it was still a bitch and a half, but he was very thankful for the new strength the Power was giving him), sketched out the images from the photo shoot he’d selected, and began to painstakingly fill the images in with oil paint.

It would surprise exactly no one who knew him that he had chosen Bucky for the piece. He was in profile, the look on his face one of fond irritation, eyes crinkling in the corners. He was in desperate need of a hair cut, hair falling to brush the top of his ears and falling over his eyes. Steve played with the shadows of his sharp cheeks, the curve of his ear, his lush lower lip.

On the other side was Steve. He knew what it would look like to anyone who knew him, but it was his art, and his piece, and this was what he wanted to do. Doing a self portrait was always a balance of actually seeing oneself, and what the artist projected. He was using one of the shots from all of them together as his reference, his smile wide and natural. It was odd seeing himself without glasses, but Steve thought it might make him a little more honest with his art.

He got lost for hours, fingers smeared with carbon and oils, little flecks of it in his hair.

Steve knew his hands would never be able to truly capture Bucky’s beauty. The absolute ruddiness of his cheeks when he’d been laughing, or the glint in his eye when he was doing something devious. He’d grown up staring at Bucky’s face, but it was never enough. Here, in his element, he was able to accept things he fought against everywhere else. The pull he felt for his best friend was strong, and he could feel it in his bones. He was so goddamned relieved that he didn’t have to fight it any more.

He stood and stretched, feeling every joint pop and the ache in his legs and lower back from hunching over, ass on the edge of the hard metal stool for way too long. Steve scratched his stomach absently before moving to wash out his brushes and clean up some.

He thought about what else he needed to get done; he needed to start the next diptych of Darcy and Natasha, and there was his English paper that was due next week… But suddenly, and all at once, he was exhausted. He knew Bucky would be back at their dorm waiting for him, soft and sleepy. He’d kissed Steve soundly before he left in the late afternoon, waving off Steve’s concern of not knowing when he was going to be back, and not wanting to wake Bucky when he came in. 

Steve wanted nothing more in that moment to be curled up in their bed. It gave him a little thrill to think of it as _their_ bed. It smelled like sleep and sex and their mixed cologne.

It was nothing to just _move_ himself there. 

The light was still on at Bucky’s desk, low enough that Steve wouldn’t trip on anything but not enough to keep Bucky awake. Bucky was curled up on his side, mouth slightly open, sheet pulled down enough that Steve could see Bucky was only in briefs. Steve looked at Bucky with a mixture of affection and tempered lust, while he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture silently.

He didn’t even bother with pajamas, just slipped into bed behind Bucky, pulling him close and kissing the back of his neck. He felt his body relaxing against his lover, eyes closing easily as his breath slowed to match Bucky’s. He fell into dreamless sleep, for once, neither of them disturbed in the quiet of their bed..

*~*~*~*~*

“What did that highlighter ever do to you?” Steve asked Bucky from where they were curled up in Steve’s bed. They had some show they had both seen playing in the background, and were pretending to study for midterms.

Bucky was trying to study. Really, he was. But Steve still smelled like the pile of leaves Bucky had pushed him into earlier that morning on their way back from breakfast. And he wasn’t wearing anything but those thin knit pajama bottoms that clung to his ass and just gave the hint of dick when he walked.

Not that Bucky had been staring. 

Steve turned to meet Bucky’s eyes, hand wandering from where it had been on Bucky’s knee to his inner thigh. He had given up on reviewing dates for his art history class and had been slowly working his way into Bucky’s lap. 

“If you’re trying to distract me, you’re doing a damn good job,” Bucky said, finally giving in and pushing his book away. He grabbed Steve’s arm and pulled him on top, knees opening to accept his weight. They’d been in a haze of skin and breath for the past few weeks. It’d been perfect and everything Bucky had hoped it could be.

“My brain is literally not working, and not because you sucked it out,” Steve replied, humming against Bucky's chest. He was warm and perfect for snuggling and not looking at any more statuary. “I cannot study anymore. I will die. I will die in your arms like a bad eighties song.”

“So dramatic,” Bucky chastised wryly, sifting through Steve’s hair with his fingers. “What do you propose we do instead?”

“I’ve got a few suggestions.” Steve followed his words with his lips, feeding hungrily at Bucky’s mouth as he pushed himself up on his arms, hips grinding just enough to cause delicious friction between their bodies.

_*ding*_

Steve hummed into Bucky’s mouth, tongue swiping against his lower lip. “Phone.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, trying to bring his lover’s weight down on him fully, to connect the entire length of their bodies. He couldn’t get enough of his skin onto Steve’s.

_*ding*_

Eyes rolling into the back of his head as Bucky pumped his hips upward, Steve pulled his head away, Bucky’s tongue flicking against his lips as he did so. “Your phone.”

Frustrated with the loss of contact, Bucky opened his eyes, glancing over at his phone which had fallen off the bed and was laying face down. “Ignore it. If Clint and Sam need us, they know how to get a hold of us.”

_*ding*_  
*ding*  
*ding* 

Making a resigned sigh, Steve leaned across Bucky’s body, reaching over the edge of the bed and struggled to grab the phone. Successful, his eyes scanned the phone and the texts that had come through.

 **Darcy:** Hey James, are you or Steve available?  
**Darcy:** I’m volunteering at the shelter tonight and the girl I do it with normally is sick and can’t come.  
**Darcy:** I wouldn’t ask this last minute if I had a choice.

Steve typed back quickly: 

**James:** i can be there in 20. Bringing Steve and the boys.  
**James:** sorry-wasnt near phone

One dark eyebrow went up. “Twenty minutes? Is that how it is?”

“Shut up and take your pants off.”

*~*~*~*~*

They made it within twenty-five minutes, allowing for one short use of Power to transport them to the alley outside of the shelter. Steve could hear the yips of puppies and the louder calls of cats, all overlaid with the excited sounds of passing people. He hurried around the corner, waving to Darcy to get her attention. 

“Sorry, sorry. What do you need?” 

The appreciation on her face was plain, her arms full of bags. Clint and Sam darted forward to pull them from her arms and she groaned in relief as she fished for her keys.

“Thank you _so_ much, I would have been here all night if I didn’t have some help. So the shelter closes in a half-hour, but all the animals need their cages cleaned, need fed, some need baths and meds. Julia usually helps but she had a family emergency so it’s just me for these thirty cats and seventeen dogs.”

Sam made a whistling noise as Steve’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t seen Darcy really in charge of something, and it was a lot.

And that was a lot of animals.

“Cages first, then food, then bath, then meds?” Steve looked at Bucky. “What? You grew up with a dog. I just had a turtle.”

“Yes. To all of that. Did the turtle have a name? Sorry. There’s a lot to do.” Darcy took a deep breath, trying to prioritize what needed done. She stopped and smiled at the boys. “Thanks for the help. Just like you said. We’ll let the dogs out, clean the cages. Then do the rest.”

She walked in, arms full, bypassing the front desk, but throwing Gladys a smile as she did so. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Steve and Bucky were following. Glad to see they hadn’t run screaming to the hills yet, she led them to the back, where families looking for their new pets weren’t allowed.

Setting the bags in her arms down, she turned to look around the room with her hands on her hips. “Okay. Who’s ready to play with some dogs?”

“Puppies. Every dog is a puppy,” Bucky said. He was smiling at hearing the excited yips and whines coming from the kennels. He plopped himself on the floor as Darcy started opening doors, and actually giggled when he was soon covered in dogs. There wasn’t anywhere not wiggling for his hands to rest.

“Steve, Steve, you gotta -” Bucky tried to get out, but he was licked in the face by a very enthusiastic pit mix.

Steve took a long moment to just watch Bucky. It was something special to see him this happy, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughed. Whenever he tried to talk, another dog went for his face with their tongue. Before long he was laid on the ground, lost in the sea of fur and wagging tails.

Seeing that Darcy was already going into the open cages, Steve sent one more look at Bucky before he crossed to her, grabbing the scooper from her hands. “I got this, you worry about the beds and towels.”

Thankful, Darcy turned toward the laundry room.

It took longer that normal to clean out the cages and get the dogs in the yard, but that was because there were several moments just spent enjoying the wet noses and happy faces that curled around their legs. Darcy and Steve both seemed happy to work while Bucky and Clint kept the dogs occupied. It wasn’t only about the things that needed done, it was just _fun_ , being here with the five of them and a gaggle of furry pups. They threw a ball back and forth while they cleaned, most of the dogs going from person to person. 

Careful to keep the dogs that didn’t play well with others separate, it wasn’t long before most of the dogs were laying down in their cages, tongues out and panting happily. Darcy straightened as she ducked out of the last cage, raising a hand to swipe at a sweaty bit of hair as it fell into her eyes. “Food?”

Sam grinned from where he was throwing a last load of laundry in the washer. “Food.”

Several ears perked at the word, including Clint’s.

“I’ll get that while you go play with the kittens, Steve,” Sam said, wiping his hands on his jeans. He grinned at Darcy. “Make sure you count noses before we leave.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve replied with about as much dignity as he could, considering he was already covered in kittens. One had already made its way to his shoulder, grooming his hair with a tiny pink tongue. A large long-haired cat was yowling as it wound around his ankles. Steve had a third, an orange tabby, cradled in his arms. 

Darcy whipped out her phone, taking several pictures of Steve, laughing. He was radiating pure sunshine. 

“That is so going up on the shelter’s FaceBook and instagram.”

“You’ll be instagram famous in no time,” Bucky said, pulling a cat pan from a cage. It was ridiculous how much his stomach flipped when he looked at Steve, covered in cats and smiling from ear to ear. It didn’t seem real.

Darcy left out a little _yip_ as one of the kitten’s claws got stuck in her sweater as she passed by a cage. “Help!”

Bucky laughed, crossing to her. “Hold on, I’ll get you free.” The cat let out a pitiful, high-pitched meow as he deftly separated sweater from paw. “He just wants a little love, that’s all.” He wiggled his fingers at the kitten, who rewarded him with a playful bite.

“I can already see the gears turning in your mind. They don’t allow pets in the dorms. You’d have to get an off-campus apartment,” Darcy advised, recognizing the look on his face. She’d worn one similar often.

“Thought about it a bunch?” Steve asked as he walked up, a furry tuxedo breed in his arms, held cradled like a baby. 

“Maybe a little bit,” she confessed, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s hard to come in here every week and see the same faces. This might be the only job where you really hope everyone is gone the next time you come in.”

“I’d keep them all if I could. Ma always had strays following her home, so I got used to having animals coming in and out. Remember that one time Bekah brought home what she thought was a dragon?”

“A _what_?”

“Some idiot bought a crocodile and didn’t realize it would grow. It escaped and was trying to hibernate when she got ahold of ‘em. I never heard Ma raise her voice like that before,” Sam said.

“I thought she was going to light the damn thing on fire. Bekah was so disappointed,” Steve replied. “Bucky’s twin sister. She’s studying herpetology at UCLA.”

Darcy was charmed by all four of the boys playing with the animals. They were gentle, and kind, and she could tell they were genuinely having a good time. You could tell a lot about how animals were around people, and how people treated animals.

“So is Ma _James’s_ mother, or yours, Steve?” It seemed like they both used the term for the same person interchangeably. 

“Both,” Steve and Bucky answered at the same time. Laughing, Steve watched as Bucky turned back to the cages and continued working. “My mom is a nurse and she usually works night shifts. When she left for work, I’d go over to their place and his mom would watch me. I ate dinner at their place most nights, usually fell asleep there, too.”

Bucky looked up as Steve explained, warmth in his eyes. Their childhood hadn’t been easy, but their constant had always been each other. Some things didn’t change.

Darcy nodded, watching the looks pinging back and forth between the men. It was obvious the history between them was thick. To be honest, she’d wondered how the four of them had grown up. They all seemed so close. She barely remembered anyone before high school and talked to even less on a normal basis. It seemed nice, to have those memories and maintain those relationships over so many years.

“Do you have any siblings, Darcy?” Steve asked. “I don’t have any, but between the boys and Bekah, I don’t feel like I really missed out on anything.”

Darcy shook her head. “Just me, mom and dad in small-townsville, Virginia. Dad works for the electric company, and Mama is a librarian at the elementary school.” Coming to Trinity had been a bit of a culture shock, but she loved it here. “Jane’s my best friend, she’s like the sister I never wanted.”

“How did you two meet?”

Taking a deep breath, Darcy turned to Bucky with a shrug. “I came up here when I was a freshman in high school. I did a tour of the school and campus. I wasn’t going to get into college without a scholarship so I thought the sooner I determined where I wanted to go, the sooner I’d be able to figure out which scholarship I needed. Jane was the tour guide. She was still in undergrad.”

“I always wondered how you knew the TA,” Sam offered, hands petting along a ragdoll kitten who’d decided she wanted to eat his shoelaces.

“Yeah. She gave me, well, _everyone_ , her contact info and said if we had any questions that we should reach out. So I did. I’m sure she thought I was just the weird high school kid, but she was nice and kept answering. After a few months, she said she’d help me look for scholarships. It’s very possible I wouldn’t be here talking to you nice boys without her.”

“It’s nice to have someone in your corner like that,” Clint said, dusting his hands off on his pants as he finished cleaning the last cage.

Steve sneezed as a small tail ran underneath his nose. He untangled the kitten from his shirt and gently placed her into her crate. He poked a finger in where she had a paw out, mewing her displeasure.

 _It looks like your allergies are clearing up_ , Bucky sent. Before, Steve couldn’t even be in a house where someone had a cat without going into a full asthma attack. There were definite perks to the power, even with all of the downsides. 

“Yeah, Jane’s the best, except when she’s deep in research and only eats poptarts and chocolate milk.”

“Is that why she was in your phone as ‘Poptart’?” Bucky asked with a smile.

“Yeah.”

“What am I in your phone?” he asked.

Darcy grinned. “I’m not going to say.”

“You could tell _me_ ,” Steve offered with a sly grin as he stepped up to the two of them.

“Yeah? Would you make it worth my while?” She gave him a lascivious grin, laying it on thick, raising her eyebrows a few times for emphasis. She turned, laughing, feeling a more like herself. 

“The tub’s this way.”


	8. Nothing Else Will Do I've Gotta Have You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _I realized I’m in love. It's always been right in front of me._ ” ― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell
> 
> Steve and Bucky make things official.

Steve rushed across campus; he’d gotten so caught up in trying to finish his piece of Darcy and Natasha that there was no way he’d be able to grab food before his next class. As it was, he’d be lucky if he got there in time. He briefly entertained the thought of Using so make it so he didn’t have to rush, but the closer he got to his birthday, the less he liked the idea of Using. Everything was already in flux, the less he had to worry about the consequences, the better.

Cutting across the quad, making up time as much as he could, Steve had been distracted by a flock of geese flying overhead. He slowed to watch them, hearing them bugle above, following them until the red-brick buildings stole them from sight. He saw a flash of dark hair, familiar even at this distance, and smiled when he recognized the line of Bucky’s body. 

His best friend had his foot on a bench, leaning in and smiling at a blonde woman, who was looking up at him with stars in her eyes. Steve knew what they felt like now, those eyes focusing on him, and he couldn’t help the small stab of jealousy as he watched them across the quad. He jumped when he heard a call of _’On your left!’_ from a biker, quickly moving out of the way so he could pass. Steve’s eyes flicked back to where Bucky and the woman had been, frowning when he saw the bench empty.

Steve’s eyes flicked from person to person but didn’t see them anywhere. Sighing, he hitched his bag further up his shoulder, the frown on his face deepening as he glanced at his watch. If he rushed, _really rushed_ , he’d be able to make it in the nick of time. He propelled himself forward, ignoring the small voice in his head that wondered who Bucky’d been talking to and why he’d looked so comfortable with her.

*~*~*~*~*

Steve stormed into his room after his life drawing class, covered in eraser leftovers and stomach growling. Damnit, he was always hungry now. He threw his bag onto the floor, and dug in the small dorm fridge, looking for something to shove in his face before dinner that night.

“Yes!” He found leftover pizza. Not even waiting to heat it up, he took a large bite, almost moaning as he chewed. He settled onto the floor, enjoying the cool tile and that classes were over for the week.

“I thought you might have gotten started without me,” Bucky said as he walked in the open door. He thought Bucky was wearing something different from when Steve had seen him in the quad that afternoon, but that wasn’t surprising, since it looked like he had been exercising. 

Steve shook his head, still chewing. “You cannot fill me the way pizza does.”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but so many things came to mind that he ended up just laughing. Sometimes Steve really had no idea how the words coming out his mouth could be taken. That, or the punk _liked_ it when he said dirty things just so he could watch the expressions he caused.

He sat on the bed, raising an eyebrow at Steve as he practically inhaled the slice and reached for another. “I remember being that hungry. Doesn’t seem like you’ll ever have enough.”

Steve smirked at Bucky. He had known exactly what he was saying, and delighted in Bucky’s reaction. Not that they’d done that… yet.

“Blah blah, energy for blah,” he said as he finished the second piece. There. That should hold him until dinner. He hauled himself up on the bed next to Bucky, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Hi.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Bucky said, cupping Steve’s cheek, kissing him a little longer. It was still a thrill, getting to kiss Steve whenever he wanted. He pulled back with a smile, not wanting to break the contact but needing to change into clean clothes after his run. “What are your plans for the rest of the night? Studying?”

Steve nodded in response, repressing a shiver. He was still feeling off balance from earlier. He’d seen the easy way Bucky had been talking with the blonde woman, the way he smiled down at her. Bucky could have anyone he wanted, and Steve… well. There hadn’t been much of anyone in that way, period.

“Hopefully having dinner with my guy,” he said, biting his lower lip uncertainly. Was this really the time to bring this up? Was this something that didn’t have to be said aloud? No. Steve wanted Bucky to know, to _understand_ that there’d never been someone like him, not with this depth of emotion. Everyone else paled in comparison. “You know there isn’t anyone else, right? Hasn’t been for a while.”

Bucky had just pulled his t-shirt over his head when Steve spoke. He turned, his head cocking to the side at the words. He tossed the sweaty shirt to the pile of dirty laundry in the corner. “Anyone else? For what?” It took him a minute, but the way Steve was looking at him spoke volumes. “Oh. Anyone _else_ ,” he repeated. Bucky wasn’t sure why his mouth had gone dry all of a sudden.

Forgetting his need for a shower, Bucky crossed the room and sat next to Steve on the bed. “I know. No one’s even come close for me. Not against you.”

Steve knew, without any shred of a doubt, that he was Bucky’s best friend. Nothing would change that. But this, this was different, and he was having a hard time putting into words. Steve shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. Well it is, but…” He sighed, burrowing his head into Bucky’s shoulder, trying to ignore the bare skin and sweat. “This is so damn stupid. I mean, me and you, exclusively. Just us. Together. No one else. Like… you’d be my boyfriend?” 

Bucky knew Steve couldn’t see his raised eyebrows, not with his head tucked down as it was. He blinked several times. He knew this was a conversation that needed to happen, words that needed to be said aloud, but it all seemed a bit silly. He was Steve’s. Steve was his. 

He brought his hand under Steve’s chin, forcing him to look up. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I see the way people look at you, Buck,” Steve whispered, little gnarls of jealousy twisting in his stomach. “This... this is so fucking awesome, ya know? And it’s not weird, or awkward or funny. It just fits.” The words all came out in a jumble, and Steve held on to the arm holding him up. He looked into Bucky’s face, searching. He didn’t know for what, some kind of confirmation that this wasn’t a dream? 

“I keep thinking I’m going to just wake up, and you’ll be snoring on your side of the room and this was all a goddamn dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” Bucky assured him, “and you’re not sleeping.” He glanced upward when the lights flickered just a little. Heavy emotions always made things a little twitchy, especially the closer they got to their birthday. This was heavy. Very heavy.

Bucky shifted, moving to kneel on the floor in front of Steve, making his face show how genuine and sincere his words were. “You are the only man I have ever loved. You’re my best friend. My life wouldn’t be worth it if you weren’t at my side. I don’t want anyone but you. If that means I’m your boyfriend, then you can call me whatever you want.”

“I certainly can’t go around introducing you as my ‘super hot best friend slash lover who gives the best damn head and keeps my feet warm and aren’t you jealous, bitches, he’s all mine.’ It’s a mouthful.”

Laughing, Bucky leaned forward to press his lips to Steve. He shook his head, eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Yeah, that’s a bit much. But I’d love to see you say that in front of Sam and Clint. I can’t even imagine. I think Clint would get the vapors and faint.”

He stood, fingers trailing into Steve’s hair. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before. Bucky looked longingly at Steve, wishing there was a shower _right there_ instead of down the hall. Or shared with the whole floor.

“So. Dinner. Let me shower and we’ll see if I can fill you up. I’ll try extra hard.”

Steve tugged on Bucky’s hand, pulling himself up. He kissed the end of Bucky’s nose, his forehead, and moved to behind his ear.

“I love you, too, jerk,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Bucky. He didn’t care that the other man was sweaty. The fact that he had managed to form coherent words with Bucky bare chested was a feat in and of itself. 

“Don’t know why you’re bothering to head to the shower when you’re just going to get all sweaty again.” 

Bucky’s eyes darkened at Steve’s words and proximity, letting his body show much he enjoyed the man pressed against him. It didn’t take long until he was hard and ready, his gym shorts not doing much to hide anything. “Is that a promise?”

Suddenly, they were pressed skin to skin, heat rolling off of Steve, eyes black with hints of red around the edges. He hadn’t consciously taken off their clothing, but Steve was beyond caring. His hands wandered Bucky’s torso, tracing the lines of lean muscles, feeling the contrast between smooth skin and scars that told the story of his childhood. He loved the crispness of the hair on Bucky’s chest, his hands following the line up until his palms brushed against Bucky’s nipples. He nipped along the sharp line of Bucky’s jaw, until he replaced his hands with his mouth. His dick twitched at Bucky’s sharp inhale. 

Bucky was certain he would never get used to the feeling of Steve’s body on his, the fact that he could touch every piece of him without worry. It felt warmer in the dorm room and Bucky knew it had nothing to do with the heat in the building. The hairs on his body stood on end as Steve moved his mouth down skin, Bucky tangling fingers in pale hair. He pulled softly, just enough to show Steve that he was happy with what was happening.

Steve met Bucky’s eyes with a grin, pushing the other man down to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Buck,” Steve said against Bucky’s lips, nipping and then soothing with his tongue. He didn’t give Bucky time to respond as he moved to his knees between Bucky’s spread legs. Steve followed the line of hair down Bucky’s lean stomach, stopping to nuzzle his nose into Bucky’s belly button. His chin bumped into Bucky, already fully hard, and Steve used his hand to gently push Bucky’s cock down and away from his body. 

Steve took his time with Bucky, biting marks into his torso and inner thighs, just missing his darkening erection and balls. Steve left the marks so that he would know Bucky was his, that this was real. Bucky’s hand tugged in Steve’s hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to grab his attention.

“I thought you were gonna - _oh, fuck, Steve_ ,” he gasped, as Steve wrapped his lips around Bucky’s cock and took him down as far as he could. He moaned at the taste of skin and sweat, and the heavy feel of Bucky’s dick on his tongue. He brought the hand not holding Bucky’s hip to wrap at the base, his mouth meeting the top of his hand. Slowly, slowly, he brought his lips back up, hand following. He repeated this motion, up and down, and up and down, not noticing the bits of sparks around the room, or the lights dimming. 

Whatever doubts Steve might have had about Bucky being his was gone as his name - _Steve Steve Steve_ \- fell from Bucky’s lips, over and over and over. Whether it was the weight of their earlier conversation, or the Power coursing through the small room, Bucky couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the man in front of him.

Bucky pulled reflexively at Steve’s hair when his tongue flicked _just right_ , his head falling backward, a gasp tearing from his throat. Another flick made Bucky look forward, eyes hungry with the beauty of Steve between his legs, hand wrapped around his cock, gazing upward so their eyes connected.

“ _Don’t stop!_ ”

 _I love watching you watch me. You can’t know how beautiful you are when you’re so desperate like this. God, you could fuck my face and I would let you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Love holding my face still with your hands as you fucked into me. I love the way you taste and the way you feel on my tongue. I love you. I love you, Iloveyou_ , Steve sent. _I could almost come just from hearing you moan my name. Will you come for me? Make me yours?_

He sped up his hand, mouth and tongue moving over Bucky, tasting the sweet saltiness of his precome. _I love you so much Bucky. Come for me, please?_

With Steve’s mouth wrapped around him and his whispered voice in his head, Bucky cried out, surrounded by Steve in every way. His hips moved by themselves, pumping into Steve’s mouth and hand, almost mad with tension. He looked down at Steve one more time, mouth parting at the view, before he crashed, coming with Steve’s name on his lips as his eyes screwed shut, his senses bombarded.

Steve swallowed, the taste of Bucky flooding his mouth, Bucky’s hands pulling on his hair as he rode the wave of orgasm to completion. Gaze looking up, Steve was still amazed that he was able to see the sheen of sweat and rapture on Bucky’s face, even more that he’d been the one to cause that expression.

Bucky’s hips twitched as he came down, finally letting his head hang, spent. His breathing was labored and it took several moments for his eyes to open. When they did, he knew the grin on his face was stupid and large, but it was matched by the look on Steve’s face, looking up at him. The look - that maybe heaven was right there in front of you - might have scared him to see on someone else’s face. On Steve? It was everything.

Steve jumped, startled when a pound sounded at the door. It was joined by the sharp sound of a siren and flashing lights.

As if coming out of a haze, Bucky looked up at the fire alarm light in the room as it strobed. He turned wide eyes back to Steve as another bang hit the door. 

“FIRE ALARM! OUT OF THE BUILDING!”

“Oh, shit,” Steve giggled. He actually giggled. He stood up, pressing his own cock against himself, and helped Bucky to his feet. 

“Clothes. We need clothes. Ha. Fuck.”

He threw Bucky’s shorts back at him, and slipped on his pajama bottoms and his class t-shirt. They snickered and laughed as they made their way down the stairs and outside to stand in the twilight with the other students streaming out of the dorm. Steve managed to catch the eye of their RA, checking in, before pulling Bucky to the back corner of the dorm building. 

Steve pulled Bucky to him, his back hitting the old brick. Steve’s hand was already on his cock, stroking hard and slow. “See what you do to me?” His last word ended with a gasp. He looked Bucky directly in the eye as his hand kept moving and his hips rolled with each downward thrust. 

A knowing smirk turned Bucky’s mouth, his eyes hooded and dark as they looked at the Steve’s rosy-cheeks. The pajama bottoms were easily bypassed, sagging down Steve’s hips without much work. It didn’t take much to ensure they wouldn’t be disturbed, just an errant thought, as Bucky’s fingers lifted the bottom of Steve’s shirt. The early fall night was crisp, but the heat pouring from Steve was enough to keep them both warm.

Bucky’s left hand moved up and down the length of Steve, his right trailing finger tips under the soft cotton, circling one of Steve’s nipples as Bucky fell to his knees in the grass.

His pupils were dilated as he looked up the line of Steve’s body, his lips next to but not touching, not yet. In his peripheral vision he saw two students walk by them, completely unaware of what was happening. The thrill of this, the readiness and reaction in Steve’s body, while people were so near? It was almost mind numbing. He felt a slight surge of electricity as Steve noticed them as well.

Everything was so sensitive, Steve could feel everything. From the grass at his heels, the brick scraping his back, Bucky’s hot breath hovering over his skin. The thought that someone could see them? Want and desire and jealousy and love and pride all welled through him. Bucky licked a long stripe from base to tip, and Steve bit his lip to keep from moaning. It wasn’t enough. 

“Buck. Buck. Please. I’m so _close_ ,” he whined.

That breathiness in Steve’s voice made Bucky’s stomach flutter with satisfaction. He’d barely even touched his lips to Steve’s cock before his fingers were in Bucky’s hair, tugging with need and almost frenzy.

Bucky knew it wouldn’t take long, but he took his time, moving slowly, torturously.

_God, I can’t even tell you how sexy you are. Cheeks flushed and panting. Everything I’ve ever wanted. Gorgeous._

Taking as much of Steve as he could, Bucky moved now with purpose. He wanted Steve to fall apart, again and again.

Steve felt the tightening at the base of his spine that signalled he was going to come, and he tapped the side of Bucky’s cheek in warning. Everything went white, and he bit into the inside of his arm to keep from screaming.

He tried to keep his hips from moving, from slamming into Bucky, but no one had made him feel like this. Pulling Bucky up, Steve crashed their mouths together, pouring everything he felt into it. Words couldn’t adequately describe what Bucky was to him. His everything, his constant, his compass.

He’d tried not to scratch Steve’s back into the bricks, but Bucky couldn’t help it. He could feel the gravity of this man pulling him in and holding him. It was useless to try and fight gravity and Steve was Bucky’s sun and stars, moon and planets. He pulled on Steve’s hair sharply, pulling his head back, leaving the long line of his neck open for Bucky’s lips and tongue to travel.

He came up for air, breathing hard, forehead pressed to Steve’s. They were both sweaty, bodies sated and humming with energy. “More than just my boyfriend, punk. Know that.”


	9. Just Take Me on the Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Dancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is another._ ” ― Unknown Author
> 
> Steve and Bucky enjoy each other’s company

“But I told _her_ that it was Ghostbusters, not Ghostbusters 2, and she still tried to argue with me about it.”

“That’s a mistake,” Sam said with a shake of his head.

“Why’s that?” Darcy watched as Steve, Bucky and Sam threw their hands in the air, their eyes impressively rolling in unison. “What?”

Steve watched Clint’s face light up as he leaned on the table. “I was a ghostbuster for Halloween eight years in a row. My comedic timing is largely based on Bill Murray’s in his seminal role as Dr. Peter Venkman. If there’s one thing in this world that I know front to back, it’s the Ghostbusters film franchise.”

Darcy nodded, sitting back in the booth, giving him a critical eye. “But the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man was _in_ the second movie, right? With the green Ooze ghost and that other guy? You know… the other guy?”

Steve watched as Clint’s eyes filled with horror, sitting back in the booth and holding a hand to his heart like it was breaking. “ _Darcy_ ,” Clint said, her name sounding like a curse word.

He glanced at Darcy out of the corner of his eyes, sandwiched between himself and Bucky, and couldn’t help the laugh when he saw the corner of her mouth lift upward in a smirk. Of course she knew the difference between the two movies, as she’d spent a lazy Sunday with him and Bucky watching the first two, as well as the new version. 

“She’s fucking with you, Clint,” Bucky said, the grin on his face wide as he threw his arm over her shoulders, squeezing the back of Steve’s neck on her other side.

Darcy’s shoulders shook with laughter as she watched the indignation flow over Clint’s face. “Sorry, I just had to.” She glanced down at her watch. “Just like I have to go now.”

The boys all made a sound of sadness as she made Steve scoot out of the booth. 

“But you just got here! I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever!”

Darcy threw her backpack over her shoulder, looking at Clint over the rim of her glasses. “I see you every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Class doesn’t count, and you know it.” Steve sighed, leaning forward on the table with his elbow. “Do you have anything going on this weekend? We can get together on Saturday?”

“I’ve got the Mark Twain house event this Saturday.” When Clint, Steve and Bucky looked at her with blank expressions, she shook her head. “Sam, they _really_ don’t listen, do they?”

Sam shook his head, sharing an exasperated grin with Dacy. “I’ll fill them in. You get to class.”

She nodded pulling her phone from her pocket, giving them all one more big smile. “I’ll see you boys on Thursday!”

Another round of sad noises sounded at her departure. Bucky sighed, scooting closer to Steve. “What was she talking about? Mark Twain?”

“Did you know his real name was Samuel Clemens?” The three men looked at Clint with raised eyebrows. “What? I know things.”

“Obviously not _this_ thing,” Sam said as he rolled his eyes. “There’s a fundraiser at the Mark Twain house on Saturday. Black tie affair, professional dance performance. Extra credit if we show up. Jane and Odinson are going to be there, and apparently Darcy, too. I hadn’t planned on going, but we could.”

“Oooooh, I know that! Natasha’s the one dancing. I just hadn’t put two and two together. Do we even _need_ extra credit?”

“I don’t care about the extra credit. All of us dressed up, though? That I could get behind.” Bucky shook Steve’s shoulders, drawing his boyfriend’s eyes. “What do you say?”

Steve nodded, a grin on his face as he thought about everyone being together in one place, something that hadn’t happened in the past few weeks due to busy schedules. “I can ask Wanda, too.” He watched a look of offense cross Sam’s face and laughed. “Okay. Fine. You can ask her.”

Bucky pushed the menu away from him, grinning. “Perfect. But you’re going to need a new suit.” He watched the laughter drain from Steve’s face. “If I get one now, will be it too short by Saturday?” When all three boys said ‘yes’ in unison, he shook his head. “You’re assholes, you know that?”

The answer of ‘yes’ came from Sam, Clint and Bucky in unison, their laughter at the middle finger Steve threw their way earned them a few glares from the other patrons.

*~*~*~*~*

It was a matter of weeks before his twenty-first birthday and Steve could feel it in his blood. There was a humming energy around him now, a bit of electricity that slid over his skin. Steve had wanted to ask Sam how he’d dealt with this, all by himself as he’d been the first to Ascend, but it just hadn’t come up in conversation. They’d been so busy, all of them. Though everyone had always been good at texting, actually seeing each other had become scarce outside of classes. He looked forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, where the whole gang could be together, even if it was just for the hour and half of history.

Steve missed them. His body was practically vibrating in anticipation of the night. Everyone together, having a good time. He didn’t mind that the event was formal, not when it meant seeing his boyfriend in a suit, all straight lines with a tailored jacket. He watched Bucky try to get his hair _just right_ , reminding himself that they would need to leave soon and that they didn’t have enough time to peel the suits off each other and see how well their bodies fit together again.

“Settle down, punk,” Bucky said, checking his reflection one more time before turning around. “We’re not going to be late.”

“Jesus _wept_ , Buck,” Steve swore. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Bucky dressed up, but it was the first time since they’d gotten together. The dark grey suit made his eyes stand out against the tan of his face. “Wow. Just... wow. You’re missing something, though.”

Bucky spread his arms, as if to dare Steve to prove it. One dark eyebrow went up, that shit-eating smirk dancing on his lips.

Steve strode forward, grabbed Bucky by the lapels, and nipped his lower lip with his teeth. He licked the seam of Bucky’s lips, groaning when Bucky returned the kiss, hands sliding down and over the curve of Steve’s ass. The feel of Bucky against him, even through the suits they wore, settled and excited Steve at the same time.

He pulled back from the kiss, grinning. Bucky’s lips had reddened from the attention, and he had a flush high up on his cheek bones.

“Much better.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Bucky hummed, hands reaching up to push an errant piece of sandy blond hair from Steve’s forehead. “I’m already planning where that suit is going to fall when we get back here. I’m thinking right there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the floor near the door. “I don’t think it’ll be much farther than that, not the way those pants are hugging your ass.”

He reached out and slapped Steve’s ass for good measure before crossing to his dresser and pushing his wallet into the inner pocket of his jacket. “You ready? We’re meeting Sam and Clint downstairs.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s your rush?” Steve stuck his tongue out at Bucky when he rolled his eyes. They made their way down the stairs and into the night, finding Sam and Clint waiting for them.

“My boys! You have deigned to descend from your den of iniquity to join us. My heart!” Clint exclaimed, arms held wide and a genuine smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He was in a dark suit with a deep plum shirt and matching tie. For all that Clint was a goof ball, usually sloppy in his appearance, he cleaned up really well.

“That was a lot of alliteration, dude.” Sam said, jacket over his arm, tie still loose.

“Yeah, yeah. And where have you been? Mr. ‘ _I’m Never Late, Christ Clint Could You Fucking Move It Already_ ’?”

“Looking this good takes time,” Bucky said, knocking his elbow into Sam as he passed him.

“Are we doing this or not?” Clint stood with a fist on his hip which was jutted out. He overextended his leg, his pants riding up enough to see the garish neon purple socks on his feet. It looked like he was doing some sort of lunge, but they’d all gotten used to Clint’s proclivities after this many years together.

Bucky shook his head as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’re doing this. We’re meeting the girls there?”

“Yes, but we won’t get to see much of my beautiful prima ballerina until after her performance. Be prepared to witness poetry in motion. But she’s mine. I know we’re brothers, but if any of you make a move on her, you will meet a violent and sticky end.”

“I’m trembling in fear,” Steve said with a smile, reaching forward to thread his fingers with Bucky as he caught up. “I think my dancing card is full anyway.”

“Damn right,” Bucky said with a grin in Steve’s direction.

*~*~*~*~*

Clint was bouncing on his feet. Steve was surprised; Clint could be excited, even flippant, but _nervous_ was something foreign. It was interesting to see what Natasha was pulling from him, and Steve reminded himself to buy her a drink and learn her secrets.

Looking up at the Mark Twain house, Bucky was more than impressed. The house looked like it’d been frozen in time, impossibly large, instantly reminding him of the late 1800s. He wasn’t sure if that’s when it’d actually been built, but it was a good guess. 

He moved up next to Steve, throwing an arm over his shoulders. “Not that I mind, but remind me why we’re here?”

“Extra credit,” Sam answered. “Attend fundraiser, get credit toward the final project. We said this before. Several times. You need to start listening, man.”

“Ah, now I remember.”

“Don’t forget free drinks and not nearly enough fo- holy fucking hell. Boys. _Boys_!” Sam nodded with his head, leading Bucky’s gaze toward the main entrance. 

Bucky stared. He knew his mouth was hanging wide open and the expression on his face was as close to _gobsmacked_ as it could get.

“What is your- _holy shit_.” Clint swore as he looked in the same direction as the others..

Darcy was being led into the building on the arm of some guy in an actual tux. She was all pale skin and fiery red, looking like the Greek goddess of vengance, pleats and tucks of flowing fabric skimming her figure.

“She looks like she stepped out of a painting. She’s stunning.”

“I’d pretend my feelings were hurt, Rogers, if I didn’t feel the same damn way.” Bucky replied. 

Steve shook his head, not realizing he’d spoken his thought aloud.

“Has she always looked like that? Did we know she had that dress?” Clint said, sharing an astonished expression with Sam. “Who’s she with? Who is that guy? Do we know him?”

Bucky blinked when the streetlight above them flicked, turning his head to look at Steve a second later. “Do we?”

“Jane talked about him once. Warrant? Something like that,” Steve answered, his eyes on Darcy until she entered the house and was lost from sight. He turned his gaze to Bucky,

“I swear nobody listens,” Sam admonished the boys, “his name is Grant Ward. He’s the vice president of his frat and they’ve been on several dates. Jane’s mentioned it plenty of times.” He paused. “But now that I think of it, you might not have been there. You had something dominating your attention.”

“ _Bow chicka bow bow_ ,” Clint sang, moving to catch up with Sam.

Steve narrowed his eyes. He knew they’d only known Darcy for a few months, but she’d fit in with their quartet so seamlessly that it was like she’d been there for much longer, and he felt a thread of protectiveness in his chest at the sight of her with someone they didn’t know. 

They’d climbed the stairs and entered the house - mansion, more like - and the growing throng of people in dresses and suits. Steve settled his shoulders and turned to Bucky with a nod. “Well, aren’t we here to have a good time? We can drag her away later,” he said, smirk settling on his face. “Besides, we should meet the guy who thinks he’s good enough for our Darcy.”

Clint snickered as he grabbed a mini slider off of a tray and stuffed in his mouth. He shared a raised eyebrow with Sam before he peeled off and followed the tray of food, veering when another with crab cakes passed in the opposite direction.

Sam just rolled his eyes at his best friend before turning back to Steve and Bucky. “I’m going to look for Wanda. See y’all later.”

Bucky watched Clint wander off, food in mouth, to find Natasha. Turning to Steve, he watched his lover scan the crowd, knowing who he was searching for with that watchful and vigilant expression. Wrapping his arm in Steve’s, he led them further into the house and toward the bar. “We need drinks.”

*~*~*~*~*

Grant Ward had excused himself, going to go grab them drinks, and Darcy turned to see if the boys had shown up yet. She swore all four of them were joined at the hip, and it made her smile as she crossed the floor to where they were standing.

“Who’s that sexy lady? _Sexy laaady_?” Clint sang, off key and with sheer delight.

Darcy laughed, raising an eyebrow in their direction. “You boys in here looking for trouble?”

“That a promise?” Sam asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to Darcy’s cheek and give her a quick hug. “You look amazing, Darcy. Really.”

“I suppose this is the part where I say ‘this ol’ thang?’ and try to play coy. But I’ll save us all the trouble.” She turned her attention to Clint, giving him an impressed expression. “You clean up very nice, Barton.”

“I know,” Clint answered with a wry grin. “I’m not the only one.”

At his push, Darcy turned her gaze to Steve and Bucky. They were a vision in light and dark, standing there next to each other. She reached out and straightened Steve’s tie where it had come out of his tie-tack. “You both look very sharp.”

“Same, I mean. Damn,” Steve blurted.

“Fabulous, Darcy. You shine like a jewel,” Bucky said, taking her hand from his jacket and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “Give us a twirl?”

“Oh, god,” Darcy said, laughing when Bucky lifted her hand above her head and spun her. Her dress gave a small billow. She stopped, cheeks flushed, smiling up at the boys. “I don’t get to dress up very often.”

“You should,” Clint said.

“He doesn’t mean you look bad normally-”

“Of course not.”

“- he just doesn’t know how to speak in polite society,” Sam finished. He pretended not to see Clint’s rude gesture in his direction. “I’m getting us drinks. Drinks? Yes.”

“I’ll help!”

Darcy watched Clint and Sam head toward the bar before turning back to Steve and Bucky. “I haven’t gotten to see you guys much lately. Seems we’ve all been a bit _busy_ , yeah?” She grinned widely, cheeks tinting slightly with pink as they met her eyes.

Steve could feel the heat as his ears turned pink and he ran his hand over the back of his neck, the memory of her walking in on them in the art studio and the embarrassment flashing in his mind.

Bucky snorted, reaching out to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Darcy with an affectionate smile. “Seeing you in class just isn’t enough,” Bucky said earnestly, glad they’d be able to joke about the incident and not let it get uncomfortable.

“You, too, James. I -”

What ever she was going to say was lost as an older woman from the shelter came over and started talking at Darcy, completely oblivious that she was breaking into the middle of a conversation. The woman pulled Darcy away by the arm, and Darcy gave an apologetic look over her shoulder at the boys. 

_Sorry_ , she mouthed.

Bucky watched her go, a small sigh escaping his lips. It seemed like time just wasn’t on their sides. He heard the piano begin playing, turning to watch as a few people made their way onto the small dance floor.

He held his hand out to Steve. “Dance with me?”

*~*~*~*~*

“I don’t think you really grasp the reality, the _gravity_ of this situation,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear as they moved slowly to the piano music being played.

Bucky’s eyes scanned the room. They weren’t the only ones on the floor. Clint had his arms around Natasha, looking like something out of a middle school dance, but she had the slightest smile on her face, so she must have been enjoying herself. Sam was twirling Wanda around, laughter coming from both of them. He didn’t see Darcy, but he’d only had the chance to speak to her briefly before she was caught by someone from the shelter.

“What situation, Steve?”

“I can’t decide which I want more right now: if I want your dick in my mouth, or want to be pounded until I see stars,” he replied, voice low and smooth. “Do you have any idea what you look like? Sex on goddamn legs. Could your pants be any fucking tighter? I’m going crazy keeping my hands off of you.”

“Yes, they could be and are growing tighter with you whispering that filth in my ear,” Bucky said against Steve’s cheek as they moved. He used the closeness of dancing to show him exactly what his body thought about the punk’s words. “Unless you plan on leaving _before_ the performance, I suggest you keep those dirty comments to yourself. But remember them for later.”

The piano player finished the song with a quick flourish of keys, the people gathered giving him a round of applause. Everyone turned to Professor Odinson as he moved to the middle of the floor.

“Thank you all for joining us this evening. The Mark Twain house and museum is a bastion of history in the middle of a high-tech world. The rich background of this home, the museum, and the works of Mark Twain, tether us to the past in a very real way. Any donations you make tonight will be matched by Trinity College, and also, generously, by the fraternity of Zeta Psi.”

Steve was still pressed against Bucky, slowly running his hand up and down Bucky’s back.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “I guess I’ll have to go take care of myself, just take the edge off. Remember I used to volunteer here during the summers in high school? I know where I can find somewhere quiet. Think about your hands on me. You know just how I like it, don’t you, Buck? Your hand wrapped around my dick, nice and slow, Jesus fuck, the way you twist your hand right around the tip? I’m dripping just thinking about it. Ain’t got nothing on under these pants, didn’t want to ruin the line, right? Be so easy.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at Steve’s words, warmth filling his chest. He honestly didn’t know if it was the dancing, or the suits, of the nearness of his birthday, but something had gotten into Steve, and Bucky wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take much more of it. 

“Find a place. Now.”

Steve’s eyes searched Bucky’s face, and he smirked knowingly. Using his hand at the small of Bucky’s back, he led him off the dance floor and out of the room. The third story was easy enough to access, he just moved the velvet rope from the stairway, back to the servant stairs, and just a click of the door and they were in an empty room. It was used for storage in the winter, but nothing had been moved up yet because of the fundraiser.

“What’s it going to be, lover?” Steve ran his mouth to the sensitive spot behind Bucky’s ear as he whispered. “No witchy spells. Don’t wanna hide.”

Bucky pulled Steve against him roughly, hips pressing into Steve’s, his hard cock grinding against his lover. He reached down, sliding against the front of Steve’s pants, clutching him through the fabric. “Get on your knees.” The thrill of the command chased up his spine as he began unbuckling his belt.

Steve pulled off his jacket, sinking down to kneel on it in front of Bucky. His hand went to his fly, releasing his own erection with a sigh. He mouthed along the front of Bucky’s pants, using his hands to pull out Bucky’s shirt tails, and pushing Bucky’s hands out of the way to undo his pants.

Steve moaned Bucky’s name when he saw that there wasn’t anything under those goddamned pants but skin. He sucked a mark above Bucky’s hip, hissing at the own pressure in his dick. God, he wanted this man.

He looked up at Bucky, pupils blown wide as he used the flat of his tongue to slowly lick Bucky from base to tip.

A shiver rocked through Bucky at the look in Steve’s eyes, hand wrapped around his cock and tongue flicking on the end before he pushed his lips back down. Bucky’s head fell back, hissing through his teeth at the warmth of Steve’s mouth on him.

“Fuck, _Steve_ , fuck.” The words echoed a bit in the room, the wet sounds reverberating as Steve worked his mouth up and down.

 _Fuck I’m so hard for you, but you wanted this. Whispering in my ear on the floor, pressed hard and tight against me, all for me_. Bucky looked down at Steve, running his hands through his straw-colored hair, fingers clutching at the strands with a good tug. _Fuck, your mouth feels amazing._

Steve pulled his mouth off Bucky, breathing hard. He rested his head on Bucky’s thigh, before looking up at him and licking his lips slowly.

“I always want this. Want you. God, Bucky, want your hands on me, your mouth on me, you in me, me in you. _Want it all._ ”

As the words fell from Steve, Bucky couldn’t help the way he panted. It was warm in the room, their body heat filling the space, and Bucky could feel the first beads of sweat form at his brow. This man and his words, on his knees and so close but not touching, was going to be the death of him. 

“You have me,” Bucky growled, fingers pulling _just enough_ in Steve’s hair, “all of me. Every day. I’m yours.”

Steve twitched at the pull in his hair, the way Bucky growled, his words. He hadn’t failed to reassure Steve when he needed it, never made him feel bad. This man. He loved this man. He pushed up into Bucky, standing, needing his lips, needing to taste and move against him.

Steve’s hand caught in Bucky’s hair, tugging so he could scrape his teeth along that beautiful line. 

“I can’t - this is - I fucking love you,” Steve growled in Bucky’s ear, rolling his hips, grabbing Bucky’s ass for purchase. It was almost too much.

Bucky’s mouth crashed against Steve’s teeth biting and then soothing, tongue sliding against his lover’s lips. Steve was wound tight - _so tight_ \- that Bucky barely had to wrap his hand around Steve’s dick before his boyfriend was thrusting upward into him. There was almost a frenzy building in the younger man, and Bucky was more than happy to help cure the storm.

He leaned down and bit Steve’s shoulder through his shirt as he used his hand to rub up and down Steve’s length, pressing his cock against Steve’s, hands moving over both of them. “Love you, punk, so much.”

“Come with me. Oh, _oh_ fuck.” It wasn’t a demand so much as a question. Steve wanted to fall apart in Bucky’s arms, wanted Bucky to fall apart, too. Steve couldn’t help himself. Everything that he had said to Bucky downstairs was true, and he didn’t care if he was coming in less than five minutes.

“So, good, _so good_ , ah, _just like that_ , please, oh god, Bucky,” Steve chanted, thrusting up into his and Bucky’s fists.

Bucky’s thumb brushed over Steve, his precome slicking over their skin. “So close,” he panted, tongue darting out to taste a bead of sweat as it started sliding down Steve’s neck. “Fuck, Steve, yes, I’m going to come. I’m going to -” Bucky’s fist moved quicker, up and down, up and down, not worried about the noise he was making. He cried out once more, “ _Steve!_ ”, before he came, hips pumping. 

He heard Steve yell his name, the blond’s forehead pressing against his as he followed, both riding the waves, breathing labored and skin slick with sweat.

Steve huffed a laugh. This, this was everything. He felt sated, but as it always did, his desire for Bucky would return in minutes, once again making him go crazy with want. This wouldn’t be the only time their bodies came together tonight, and he was already looking forward to their next fix.

“C’mon jerk. Let’s get cleaned up and enjoy the show, yeah?”

*~*~*~*~*

Darcy and Ward made their way to the side of the floor as they were instructed, to make room for the performance. She grinned at Sam and Clint as they got within range. “Where are James and Steve?”

“Getting some air,” Sam said with a shrug, “I think I saw them heading for the conservato-”

“ _Shhh_!” Both Darcy and Sam looked over to Clint with wide eyes at his hiss. “It’s _starting_!”

The lights in the foyer dimmed, rented spotlights illuminating the floor with a single beam. From the shadows, Natasha appeared, bright red pointe shoes that matched the tulle of the skirt around her waist.

The piano played a slow, careful piece of music. It was ominous but no one could tear their eyes off the dancer in the middle of the light. A man came to stand beside the piano, just on the edge of where the light showed Natasha’s movements. He began to read, most likely something that Twain had wrote, but it was like background noise, Natasha’s dancing demanding the attention of everyone in the room.

Natasha was nothing but motion and fluid lines, complete peace on her face as she moved across the room. A faint piano line came in, and suddenly the music came to life. She danced with abandon, using her body like a paintbrush, illustrating every rise and fall of the piano, every note punctuated with finality of a crisp sharp movement, only to be soothed by a graceful sweep of a limb, drawing the eye, rapt with attention.

No one knew how long Natasha danced - minutes, maybe hours - but at the end, almost everyone in the audience was left teary or out of breath. When Natasha finished, bowing low, the applause in the space was thunderous. It was a toss up between Darcy and Clint who’d clapped the loudest. Natasha bowed again as the crowd showered her with applause, grace and beauty in every movement. Darcy actually put her fingers in her mouth and whistled, waving when Natasha looked up at her with a small, almost imperceptible grin.

“She was amazing!”

“Did you _see_ that?” 

Clint and Darcy clutched at each other in excitement as Natasha left the floor, most likely to change so she could enjoy the rest of the party. They babbled over each other, gushing about the performance.

“And she lets me kiss her from time to time!”

Darcy laughed, her hazel eyes catching sight of Bucky and Steve, waving in excitement as they approached. “Wasn’t she amazing? How do people have that much talent inside of them? It’s unfair!”

Steve grinned and held up his phone. “I may or may not have recorded it.”

Bucky accepted Darcy’s high five, smiling just as hard as the rest of them. His smile faltered a bit as an arm wrapped itself around Darcy’s waist.

“Hi, Grant Ward. Thanks for keeping my lady company while I congratulated the dancer. Her performance will definitely bring a lot of donors in tonight.”

All four boys blinked when the dark-haired man smiled at them, tucking Darcy under his shoulder.

“Which means you Zeta’s will be out even more money,” Clint said, mouth turning up as he looked at the man. There was a smile on Clint’s face, but it didn’t match his eyes.

“It’s nothing, really. Our alumni are always happy to help when it’s needed,” Grant said, nodding in Clint’s direction. He pulled Darcy closer into his side, giving her a slight squeeze. “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Ah! Sorry! I’m an idiot. Guys, this is Grant, which he already told you. Grant, this is Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, James Barnes and Steve Rogers. These are the other four in my history group.” 

Bucky could feel the other men bristling. Clint just looked more relaxed, and Sam had a little smile playing on his lips. Steve was leaning not so casually against Bucky. 

_I don’t like him_. The thought was nearly simultaneous between the four of them.

“Hope you’re taking good care of our Darcy,” Clint drawled, a toothpick clenched in his teeth.

Ward smiled his most charming smile, fingers rubbing along the fabric of Darcy’s dress at her hip. “It’s my only mission at the moment, taking good care of her.”

“ _Her_ is standing right here,” Darcy said, looking between the five men with a frown.

“I’m sorry,” Ward said, leaning over to press a kiss to her hair. “I didn’t mean to talk over you.” His eyes glanced downward, seeing Bucky and Steve standing so close, hands clasped, then back up to their faces. When the piano behind them started playing softly, he took the advantage to pull her away. “Darcy, would you care to dance?”

When she nodded, looking between the boys with furrowed brows, he held his drink out to Sam. “Would you mind taking that? Thanks so much.” He drew Darcy’s hand above her head, spinning her into the small crowd that was making their way to the floor as well.

Sam looked down at the glass in his hand, then back up to the two of them on the floor. He set the glass on a waiter’s tray as they passed.

“Dick,” Clint hissed.

“Yeah,” the other three boys said in unison.

*~*~*~*~*

It didn’t matter that he’d held Steve against him less than an hour ago, Bucky would never get tired of pulling Steve toward him and connecting their bodies from head to toe. Somehow they fit together perfectly, like it was meant to be.

Bucky slanted his mouth over Steve’s in the dark of their dorm room, tasting the spiked punch and champagne they’d had at the Twain house. Not in any rush, but needing to feel skin against skin, Bucky pulled at Steve’s shirt and freed it from where it’d been tucked in. He pressed the palm of his hand on Steve’s back, fingers flexing against the warmth as he explored his lover’s mouth with his tongue.

There was something about this man, who’d been his best friend forever and knew all his stories and all his scars, that Bucky couldn’t seem to get enough of. Steve relaxed into his touch, the sigh falling against Bucky’s mouth as he just enjoyed being able to do _this_ , with _this_ man, right now.

Steve’s hands came up to frame Bucky’s face, gently feeling the way his jaw moved, the shape of it as it swept up to his ears, bits of hair falling to his face. Gone was the overwhelming driving impatience of earlier. He wanted to take all night, take his time memorizing Bucky in a million different new ways. He could spend forever just looking at Bucky, but getting to love this man, getting to _be loved_ by this man? Steve’s head still spun at the thought.

Music was still playing softly from Bucky’s open laptop, and Steve pulled back enough to rest his forehead against Bucky’s, nearly eye level with him. He just breathed, looking into stormy grey eyes fringed with sooty long eyelashes. The most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Inside and out.

“Dance with me?” He pulled Bucky’s hand close to his chest, swaying gently to the quiet guitar notes. This wasn’t showing each other off and it wasn’t an excuse to touch in public. It was just gentle brushes of skin and fabric. Breathing the same air.

“Always,” Bucky whispered, one hand staying on Steve’s back, the other held between their bodies. He wasn’t sure what he’d done in a past life to earn this, but he wasn’t going to let go. The entirety of his days, from when they were children to now, had been with Steve at his side. He couldn’t imagine any days in the future that didn’t feature the man, hand clasped with his, ready for anything that was thrown at them.

He pressed his lips to Steve’s jawline, the slight stubble rubbing against his face as he took a deep breath in. He didn’t know how, some kind of chemical reaction he didn’t fully understand, but he smelled like… _home_.

“I love you, punk. So much.”

Warm, calloused fingers worked at the tie at Bucky’s throat, slowly sliding the silky fabric out its knot, pulling until it fell to the floor. Steve’s fingers slipped each button out of its hole, slow, so slowly, watching as each exposed a little more of tanned skin. He ran his hands up Bucky’s torso, feeling each dip of muscle, every scar and memory. Where Bucky’s appendix had to come out at fifteen. When they all thought that building that fort was a good idea, even when no one had any idea how to use a hammer.

Fingers lingering on each rib, counting their way up to Bucky’s chest. Steve could feel the steady _thumpthumpthump_ of Bucky’s heartbeat. His thumbs caught in the hollow below Bucky’s clavicle, following the movement of the soft line. Finally, Steve pushed Bucky’s shirt off to follow the tie to the floor. He leaned forward to catch Bucky's lower lip with his teeth, nipping and soothing with his tongue, marking that spot that made him gasp near his shoulder. 

“I love you, jerk.”

Sucking in air sharply when Steve’s teeth pressed into his skin, _just this_ side of hurting, Bucky reached up to hold the back of Steve’s neck, fingers digging into the muscle. He’d been completely naked, looked over every inch of Steve’s body and then followed his sight with his tongue, but it always seemed like there was something more to discover, some new bit of skin Bucky hadn’t paid enough attention to.

He needed _more_. More skin on skin. More lips, more teeth and tongue and sighs that filled up the small room. He would never have enough of this man.

Bucky pushed Steve’s jacket from his shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor as he worked on the buttons of his shirt. It joined the rest of their discarded clothing, forgotten and unnecessary. His let his fingers skim where they wanted as he pulled Steve’s mouth back against his own. “Want you,” he growled against lips, “all of you.”

Bucky’s skin was just as hot as his own, and Steve shuddered at the feel, the slide of skin, the promise of more in the energy flowing off of Bucky. Steve could feel the bits of sparks following the lines of Bucky’s hands, and the slowly burning arousal in his gut headed lower. He fumbled with his belt, the buttons on his slacks, until he was naked and pressed up against Bucky, showing him with actions and movements how much he was affected.

“You have me, you know that.” Words punctuated by a groan as Bucky pulled Steve against him. The fabric of his trousers wasn’t enough friction. He wanted to be surrounded, engulfed, possessed by his lover.

“Take me.”

He wasn’t going to need to say it twice. Bucky, spurred on by Steve’s words, reached between their bodies to wrap his hand around the swell of Steve’s cock, enjoying the hiss that fell from his lips. 

“So beautiful and hard for me,” he whispered against Steve’s jaw as he leaned forward, tongue darting out to lick the soft bit of skin right below his ear. The shiver that ran through Steve’s body made him chuckle softly against skin. “All mine.”

One hand stayed around Steve, the other slipping behind to grab the swell of his ass, fingers digging in as he ground himself against Steve, every noise Steve made in response like a badge of honor. He wanted Steve before him, begging and moaning at the things Bucky would do to him. 

He let go of Steve, lips curling at the small cry of sadness he earned, both hands moving to grip Steve as he moved them backward toward the bed. The back of Steve’s legs hit first and he took a seat, cock bouncing against his stomach. Bucky pulled his belt loose, letting it fall to the floor as he dropped his pants as well. He stood there, hard and ready, and looked down at Steve. 

“Beautiful,” he breathed, leaning forward. He pressed a heavy kiss to Steve’s lips as he crawled onto the bed, setting himself between open hips, tongue brushing Steve’s lower lip as he laid his weight down on top.

Steve shook his head. “You’re the beautiful one. Always have been.” He traced his hands up and down Bucky’s back, smoothing over firm skin. He didn’t miss the shiver as his fingers skimmed the sensitive skin just at the juncture of Bucky’s leg to his ass. He licked into Bucky’s mouth and did it again, and again, until he heard the quietest little whine. 

He hummed against Bucky’s shoulder, licking at the mark he’d left. “Do you like that, sweetheart? Think of me, holding you, grabbing that sweet ass of yours as you fuck me? Wrapping my legs around your waist, holding me down, not letting me move, just taking it?” He couldn’t stop his hands now, spreading his legs farther apart to rub his aching cock against Bucky’s, already leaking, the thought of being fucked until he couldn't think of anything _but_ Bucky.

Gods above and below, Steve and his mouth were going to make Bucky come before they’d even gotten started. 

“Wrapping your legs like this?” He brushed his hands up Steve’s legs, bending his knees so they wrapped around Bucky’s waist, pressing against Steve’s ass and _almost_ pressing against his opening. 

Bucky rubbed himself, teasing Steve, the sounds of want filling the room. He knew what he wanted to do to Steve, and even with Steve’s own words, Bucky still wanted to make sure, be absolutely certain they both knew what came next.

Steve nodded, meeting Bucky’s eyes, searching them with his own. He knew that right now, at this moment, he loved Bucky more than anything. Even now, he was still checking in, still asking, still reassuring.

“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want you in me, I wanna feel every inch of you, wanna watch you come apart above me.”

He fumbled for the bottle of slick he knew he’d stuffed near his pillow with the hand that wasn’t groping Bucky’s ass. He could spend hours just on that curve alone. Had, if anyone snooped in his sketch books. Finding it, he held the bottle in Bucky’s eyeline.

“Fuck me, _please_ , Buck, make me come around you,” he knew what his words were doing to Bucky, but it didn’t matter because he meant them. 

The tendril of want in Bucky’s stomach tightened at the way Steve looked up at him, so sure and trusting, earnest and ready. He took the bottle from Steve, coating his fingers. He lifted one of Steve’s legs, hooking it on his shoulder, leaning forward. He caught Steve’s lips with his own, slick fingers moving up and down Steve’s cock, slowly, so slowly, before he palmed Steve’s sack, squeezing softly.

He deepened the kiss as his fingers brushed against Steve’s opening, fingers sliding, pushing. Steve’s mouth opened and he panted against Bucky at the feeling, right leg spreading wider, left leg pressed between their bodies as he opened for Bucky.

Little sparks of light flicked around them and the air shimmered with their breathing. Even the shadows were still, like power was waiting for a slow exhale.

Steve slipped his hand down to guide Bucky’s fingers with his own, showing him how he liked the rim played with, just running knuckles against it until he was shivering. He pushed down on Bucky’s hand, taking one finger, than the next, moaning as Bucky moved slowly, exploring, finding the spots that made him gasp and grind down.

“Soon, love, soon, just one more than then you, please?”

Bucky’s body _ached_ to be inside of Steve, to make their bodies fit together, but he wanted his lover to be ready. He bit his lip and nodded down at Steve, not trusting his voice. His entire body felt like one large nerve, vibrating with a hunger that only Steve could feed.

He brushed against Steve, working one more finger in, making sure Steve was moaning, hips thrusting, shaking with need before he reached down and wrapped a hand around himself, spreading the lube from his fingers. He shifted their bodies, setting himself against Steve.

“Fuck, Bucky, _yes_ ,” Steve panted, anticipation making his voice nothing more than a whisper that ended closer to a beg than anything else.

It took every bit of willpower in his body to push forward slowly, letting Steve adjust. He locked his eyes with Steve’s, wanting to see every slight change in expression as it crossed his lover’s face.

Bucky’s hips finally settled against Steve’s, and all his mind could babble was that he’s _so full_ and it’s _perfect_ and he’s _missed this_ without even knowing it. He could feel every inch of Bucky pressed against him, over him, in him, and it was everything.

“Buck? You ok?” Steve pushed the hair falling across Bucky’s forehead out of his eyes. “I love you.”

There was a lump in Bucky’s throat, something heavy in his chest, as he looked down at Steve, skin flushed, body surrounding him. Every breath Steve took moved him _just enough_ that the friction sent chills up and down his spine. He let out a breath he’d been holding, nodding. He turned his head, catching Steve’s hand where it cupped his cheek, pressing a kiss to the blond’s palm. 

He moaned, pulling out slowly and deliberately, committing every moment to memory. The pink tint on Steve’s chest, the way his hair turned white gold as a ray of moonlight came between the crack in the curtain. The feeling of being in Steve, feeling his warmth _everywhere_... “Fuck, baby. You feel amazing.”

Steve melted into Bucky. He moved his hips, rolling them up and against Bucky, watching his face to see how he felt, how each movement made them both stutter. They moved with each other, moans and sighs, for Steve didn’t know how long. It could have been minutes, or hours, or years.

He couldn’t take it anymore, Steve’s whole body was aching, on fire, and he kissed Bucky desperately, messily. He loved the stretch, the pull, the push of Bucky in him, his cock caught between their bodies. Steve tried to reach down to wrap his hand around himself, but almost whined when Bucky caught it with his own and dragged it down to his hip.

Steve’s eyes flashed with fire when Bucky’s hand wrapped around his dick instead, hand moving at the same tortuously slow pace.

“No, let me,” Bucky growled into Steve’s neck. 

“I’m so close, so close, Bucky, _James_ , Buck -” Steve’s voice broke, hands trying to find purchase anywhere to just be able to reach the edge.

Bucky’s hand on Steve moved in tandem with his hips, up and down, up and down. He had to concentrate on the rhythm. Everything in his body wanted to let go, wanted to crash into Steve, over and over, lost in the haze of lust, but he wanted Steve to come with him. “With me,” he panted, hand on Steve moving quicker as his hips filled the room with the sound of skin hitting skin. “Always with me.”

His thrusts lost their steady rhythm the closer Bucky got, squeezing and twisting his fist at the tip of Steve’s cock, knowing the movement drove him crazy. 

“Fuck, Steve, come with me. _Fuck_ , want you with me.”

The growling command had Steve’s back arching as his vision whited out, coming around Bucky’s cock and pumping into his fist. “Now, now, _nownownow_ , Bucky,” he chanted unable to do anything but _feel._

Bucky watched Steve fall apart, head thrown back, beautiful, as he came. Seeing the look, _that_ look, on Steve’s face pushed Bucky over the edge. He thrust one, twice, and came, body pressing deeply into Steve, feeling the warmth of him everywhere. He sagged, holding himself up, breathing heavily, hands pressed into the comforter on either side of Steve’s head.

“Fuck, Steve. I can’t- don’t- _stop moving_!” he laughed lightly as Steve shifted below him, everything a ball of sensitivity. “Give a guy a minute, will you?”

“I certainly gave you more than a minute,” Steve replied, voice breathy. He was still twitchy from aftershocks, but managed to move just his head to nuzzle into Bucky’s neck. He smelled like sweat, and salt, and sex, and Bucky, and home.

After he’d relearned how to breathe, Bucky moved back, the loss of Steve’s heat wrapped around him stark and stinging. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Steve’s mouth, collapsing on the bed beside his love, still panting, hand trailing until it was draped over the other man’s chest. 

“Wow,” he breathed, head leaning into Steve’s shoulder, kissing the skin he could get his lips on.

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna do it again?”

“Fuck, yeah.”


	10. Clothes Make A Statement, Costumes Tell A Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Halloween was the best holiday, in my opinion, because it was all about friends, monsters, and candy, rather than family and responsibility_.” ― Margee Kerr
> 
> The gang starts planning for The Best Holiday: All Hallow’s Eve.

**GROUP CHAT:**  
**Bucky:** Guys.  
**Bucky:** Guys.  
**Bucky:** Have you checked your campus mail boxes yet?  
**Bucky:** Guys.  
**Clint:** what had your knickers in a wad?  
**Clint:** Ha. wad.  
**Natasha:** Ignore him.  
**Darcy:** but those arms!  
**Sam:** You mean DESE GUNS!  
  
(Picture of Sam Wilson in tank top covering his nipples)  
**Steve:** I am sitting right next to you. You already know the answer.  
**Jane:** Why are you even bothering to cover your nipples? It is because they are abnormally small? You can tell us, you know.  
**Jane:** For Science.  
**Wanda:** May I borrow a caliper? For accuracy?  
**Jane:** Of Course.  
**Natasha:** What. Please tell me there’s a spread sheet.  
**Jane:** please  
**Bucky:** FOR FUCKS SAKE. GO GET YOUR GODDAMNED MAIL  
**Clint:** My nipples are nothing but a delight.  
**Sam:** this has devolved quickly  
  
(Picture of Clint showing his chest without exposing his face)  
**Darcy:** Did you actually instagram filter that? I love you.  
  
(photo of elaborate invitation box with peacock feather)  
**Darcy:** James. What did you do?  
**Bucky:** HALLOWEEN IS BEST. YOU WILL NEVER CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.  
**Steve:** It’s actually vellum. I checked. I can neither confirm nor deny that I have been huffing actual indian ink.  
**Wanda:** This is… to the Blatchford House annual ball. Held by the Society of the Descendants of the Founders of Hartford.  
**Bucky:** YUP  
**Wanda:** HOW DO.  
**Wanda:** These tickets are impossible to get. You can’t buy them. You never know who’s going to be on the list.  
**Wanda:** … you must share your sorcery  
**Bucky:** Unless you’re a junior member and your mom’s on the committee and you’re her favorite son.  
**Steve:** Only son.  
**Bucky:** Details  
**Sam:** HELLS. YES.

*~*~*~*~*

Darcy’d been late to History the next morning, slipping in right after Professor Odinson had started asking questions about the previous weeks reading, Bucky could see she was almost vibrating with excitement when she’d flopped down in her usual seat between him and Steve. As the class finished, her excitement bubbled forth and she threw her arms around Bucky’s shoulders.

“This is nothing short of amazing. I already have seventy-five ideas about what I want to wear. Are we going as a group theme? Is that too dorky?”

Bucky grinned, glad to hear someone else share his enthusiasm for the greatest holiday ever.

“I don’t think we’ve decided yet, but I wouldn’t say no to a group theme.”

“I’ve always wanted to dress up like Team Zisou from _A Life Aquatic_ ,” Clint said from behind them. Darcy turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Yes, fine, don’t argue. _I’ll_ be the Willem Dafoe guy and wear the shorty shorts.”

“Hard pass.” Clint looked over at Sam with fake outrage, hand going to his chest. “Hey, the last time we let you choose costumes, we made the worst Spice Girls ever.”

“Depends on your point of view, I guess. Are you still sore that you didn’t get to be Posh Spice?”

“Did you have any good ideas, Darce?”

“Mmm, not sure. Something fun, but not cliche?”

Steve looked up from his phone. He’d absolutely started a Pinterest page of ideas he’d shared with the group. There were just so many good ideas. Bucky’s and Darcy’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“Sweeney Todd?”

“You always want to be the Barber. You just want an excuse to stare at Johnny Depp.”

“Uh. Yeah. Can you blame me?”

“Speaking of Johnny - what about Alice in Wonderland?”

“You’d make quite the dashing Mad Hatter,” Darcy said, reaching out to pull a hair from Bucky’s shirt. It was blond, and it didn’t take a genius to know whose it was. Their clothes had become universal, both Bucky and Steve wearing them on any given day. 

Bucky watched Darcy pluck something from his shirt as he considered the Wonderland aspect. 

”I don’t hate it.”

“We could always do steampunk,” Sam said, fingers pressing the buttons on his phone. When everyone went quiet, he looked up at them. They were all looking at him, waiting for him to say more. “What? I’ve been on the internet. It’s a thing. Jules Verne, cogs and brass, Victorian England. Steampunk. Look it up.”

“Who _are_ you?” Clint asked, looking at Sam like he’d never seen him before.

“I will murder you in your sleep, Barton.”

“At least buy me dinner first.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Steve?”

“Steve?”

Despite her whispers, Steve hadn’t looked up at Darcy. His eyes were completely focused on the book in front of him, chewing on the end of a pen, eyes darting back and forth across the page. The only sounds in the library were pens on paper and pages being turned. He actually hadn’t even looked up at her when she’d slid into the chair across from him and spread her book and notes on the table.

Darcy just needed a number out of his phone, so she could text Wanda and work on their costumes. It would only take her a second. It’d probably be better to just take it, really. That way they could maintain the quiet hush of the library. 

She whispered his name one more time, just so she could say she tried, before she reached for his phone. 

Darcy swiped her finger to unlock the phone, shaking her head when no pin was needed. Her face turned from one of deviousness to one of shock.

Steve had obviously been texting with Bucky, seeing as it was the open application after she unlocked it.

Steve had been sending pictures.

Of himself.

Of those deep blue eyes staring right into the screen, blush high on his cheeks. Those lips, on that often too serious face, were slightly open, like he had just whispered someone's name.

Bucky’s name.

He really did blush all the way down that beautiful chest, Irish skin pale and ruddy. Darcy followed the line of color until - she really couldn’t help the quick intake of breath. Steve’s hand was wrapped around his very hard cock, just the tip of it peeking out of his fist. 

The next photo was obviously after he was done. Face totally relaxed, a soft smile playing on his lips, sweat just starting to bead at his temples. 

She pressed the home button with a huff of air, opening his contacts and scribbling down Wanda’s number at the top of her page of notes. Her hand slipped as she tried to lock the phone and it clattered as it hit the table near Steve.

Steve looked up, startled at the loud noise. He wasn’t the only one, as several other faces turned to look over as the near-silence of the library had been shattered.

“Fuck! Sorry!” Darcy hissed, casting apologetic looks in all directions. “Sorry sorry I’m sorry.” Embarrassment tinted her cheeks pink.

Steve’s eyes widened as she began vomiting words.

“I’m sorry. I saw you sitting here, I had insomnia and came here, and you were here and I sat down and said your name, but you must not have heard me, so I was fine sitting here while we read and I studied, then I remembered I needed Wanda’s number from you so we could invite her to go shopping for costumes with me, Jane and Natasha.” 

Steve’s eyes widened again, this time because she hadn’t taken a breath and was still going.

“And so I called your name, but the book you’re reading must be very good because you didn’t hear it, so I just grabbed the phone to get it instead of bothering you, so I got the number and now we’re good. Sorry.” She took a deep, gasping breath, sucking in air.

Steve reached over and took Darcy’s hand in his own.

“Darce, it’s fine. You just startled me. I was so focused on this I didn’t even notice you come in. I’m sorry.” He glared at the other people still starting until they went back to their own work.

“Bucky’s trying to work out some engineering problem, and he has to pace and talk and walk around and I cannot get shit done when he’s like that. I’m really glad that you’re going to hang out with Wanda,. She’s awesome. Her brother is kind of intense, but she’s really cool. If she likes you enough she makes sweets from her grandmother’s recipes. Oh, god, I could kill for a brownie and I swear I am not high.”

The way he answered her babble with one of his own made Darcy smile and she squeezed his hand in return. “If she’s your friend and Sam likes her, then she’s in our group. And if she’s in the group, then that means she gets to come laugh with us and find ridiculous costumes. Maybe I’ll be able to talk her into making brownies for your birthday. It’s not long now, is it?”

He shook his head. “All Souls Day. November second. No more making puppy dog eyes for you guys to slip me drinks when no one's looking.” 

Nevermind Ascending. He had to bite back his words to keep from blurting it all out at Darcy. “I’m not going to get any more of this done. Wanna go to the diner and eat shitty food until we can pretend we’re tired enough to sleep?”

Darcy smiled, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Yes, please.”

*~*~*~*~*

Steve knew they had a long night ahead of them. Between Bucky’s excitement over the holiday, and the group outing at the Twain House, one-on-one time would be hard to find. All that meant was that he was more than happy to stay in bed, wrapped around his lover’s body, limbs entwined and breath warm as it fanned over skin.

He could feel that Bucky was still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily under Steve’s cheek. The blond closed his eyes and focused on the body beneath him. He knew he should let Bucky sleep, but it was hard for his hands _not_ to wander, especially as he knew Bucky was bare under the sheets, perfect for fingers to dip into the hollow of his hips, scratch over the muscles of his abs and feel them bunch under his touch. He ran his fingers lightly over Bucky’s nose, tracing the line of his jaw down to his collar bones, fingers finally resting in the hollow of his throat.

“Mmm, that feels nice, lamby toes,” Bucky said, stretching slowly into Steve, enjoying the feel of his skin against his boyfriend’s. He smelled like sleep and sex and _Steve_. Steve wasn’t wearing anything under the sheets, either, and one hand snuck over to lightly tug at Steve’s hip in a half assed embrace. He could tell that the sun wasn’t up just yet, and he wanted to snuggle into Steve and doze for forever.

“Are you quoting _Firefly_ at me? I mean, I have no problem being Gina Torres, but I feel like it’s a lot to live up to,” Steve chuckled into Bucky’s shoulder. He loved how his head just seemed to fit into the dip of his collar bones and chest. 

“Was that _Firefly_?” Bucky said, smirking up toward the ceiling as his hand chased up and down Steve’s back, pausing at the curve of his ass before heading back up toward his shoulder blades. “Do you know what day it is?”

When he felt Steve sigh against his chest, he couldn’t help how much bigger his grin grew. “Double double…”

“You are nothing but trouble Barnes. Delicious, delightful, decadent, deviant trouble,” Steve said before tipping his head up to press his lips against Bucky’s. It was lazy, slow, but thorough, mouths slanting easily with long breaths and sighs as they wrapped around each other. Steve traced over Bucky’s back, feeling how his shoulder blades moved as his hands cupped Steve’s ass. He didn’t feel any rush, even though want was curling through his body.

“That was a mouthful of alliteration,” Bucky hummed against Steve’s lips, blinking as he looked into the blue of Steve’s eyes from inches away. They were the prettiest cornflower blue, but now they looked like cobalt, darker with the lust and heat he could feel and knew were darkening his own. 

The changes in Steve over the past few weeks were a wonder to watch. He’d watched his love grow into his body, becoming more and more confident as the hours ticked by. He was so close now and he could feel the hum just under his skin, like a current of electricity below the surface. Steve was practically glowing with it, and it was a little more than attractive. All that power, strong and pulsing. “Are you hungry? We could grab something to eat before we head to the hotel?”

“That’s hours from now,” Steve said, snuggling deeper into the bed. He rubbed his ankles along Bucky’s calf, enjoying the feel of crisp hair and skin. Bucky felt almost cool against him, which Steve welcomed. He hoped running this warm was not going to be a permanent change. Bucky looked so enticing with his eyes hooded with sleep and lust, his hair falling into almost curls, sticking up every which way. Steve’s fingers itched for his camera or a pencil to catch the image he saw before him.

“Besides, the sun isn’t even up yet. Need snuggles for strength.”

“You’ve had one thing or another in your mouth for weeks now,” Bucky said. When he felt Steve laugh against his chest, his lips turned upward. “ _Food_ , Rogers. You ate three plates of pasta last night. And that was _after_ an entire large pizza for lunch.”

Bucky remembered his and Clint’s appetite before their change, but Steve’s was putting both of them to shame. That he was now _bigger_ than any of them was a surprise, but not an unhappy one. Steve was now broad, and when Bucky’s hands took their time exploring his body, he could feel the strength beneath his skin. “But now that you mention it…”

Bucky pulled Steve’s face toward him, biting at his lower lip, his fingers sliding over Steve’s skin, scratching over the muscles, strong and lean.

“And you say I’ve been the one with something always in my mouth. You’re just as bad as me,” Steve said against Bucky’s mouth, still chuckling. “I’m not complaining, please don’t stop.”

“I can’t help it, you’re just so gorgeous. All that skin, your _mouth_ , Jesus, your mouth,” Bucky replied before pulling Steve back in and licking the seam of his lips, feeling Steve shift his hips as Bucky threw his leg over Steve and turned them so Steve was on his back.

Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s back to his hips, curving over his ass and just resting there. His hands, finally matching the rest of his body, covered almost the entire sweet curve of Bucky, and Steve loved how just the lightest brush of his fingers drove Bucky to distraction.

Between their lovemaking last night and the attraction already curling in his body, Bucky was already prepped, and feeling Steve pressed against him made his eyes flutter closed. He felt Steve’s hands squeeze his ass, pulling his cheeks apart, and the cool feeling of Steve’s slicked up fingers just curling around and in, and Bucky shuddered at the slow intrusion.. He could feel Steve leaking against his hole, and it just took a shift of his hips to slot Steve against him, lowering his body onto Steve’s, his body aching with the slow movement.

As he stretched around Steve, Bucky watched the heat fill his lover’s eyes, saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “ _Fuck_ , Steve, you feel so good.”

“God, so do you sweetheart, taking me so good. Just, right like that,” Steve breathed out as Bucky sank all the way down on his dick, hot and slick and tight. Steve pulled Bucky down to his chest, wrapping his arms around his torso and back, bringing his knees up so that they were as wrapped around each other as they could possibly be. 

Steve rocked up into Bucky slowly, barely even moving, like a slow breath in and out. He looked into Bucky’s stormy grey eyes, pupils blown wide and dark lashes framing them so perfectly, and saw love and want and affection reflected in them. Steve brought a hand to the back of Bucky’s head, tugging the strands and pulling him down to nuzzle into the sensitive spot right behind Bucky’s ear. 

Bucky was in no rush as his breath fanned against Steve’s neck, and he allowed himself to just enjoy the feeling of being so full and complete, his body sheathing Steve, wrapped around him. He spun his hips just the slightest bit, grinding down against Steve, and the sound Steve made at the back of his throat was the sexiest thing Bucky had ever heard.

“Wanna stay here like this,” Bucky breathed, pulling Steve’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down, Steve hissing with the small bite of pain, “you inside me, stretching me, making me feel so good.”

Running his nails down Bucky’s back gave Steve the satisfaction of Bucky’s gasp and whimpers of pleasure. It was so goddamned hot to hear that noise right in his ear, quiet sounds of smoldering need. Bucky was hot and hard, trapped between their stomachs, and Steve could feel the smear of wetness from Bucky’s tip. He ran his nails back up Bucky’s back, pressing hard enough to leave marks.

“Want you right here, filling you up, feeling you so hot and right around me. Love hearing you. This is everything, _you’re_ everything. I love you, so fucking much.”

The sun was barely up, just the first rays slipping through the windows, but it lit Steve’s face beautifully, leaving it like some kind of work of art, cheeks flushed and lips parted in passion. It took everything Bucky had not to cry out, biting his lips as he lifted himself on his knees then lowered, jutting his hips against Steve, drawing a sigh from Steve’s lips. 

The fingers on his hips tightened with every movement, hard enough that they’d leave marks, and Bucky _wanted_ them to. He loved knowing he’d been marked by Steve, marked as _his_ , even if no one else saw them. When they faded he knew he’d seek more, begging Steve to replace them with new ones.

Power thrummed along Steve’s spine, along his fingers, just sparking over Bucky’s skin as he stroked everywhere he could touch. He thought he could actually feel Bucky’s heart beat where he was wrapped around him, so close, so intimate. 

“Wanna hear you, love,” Steve asked, voice just shy of begging. He could feel the pressure at the base of his spine, feel his balls draw closer to his body as his dick pounded with each beat of his heart. His hip stuttered up when Bucky licked along his collarbone and then bit the flesh below it. Steve knew it would leave a mark and he craved it, craved proof that he was Bucky’s, that he belonged to someone. 

Slow and languid movements gave way to something more desperate, more kinetic. Bucky was slipping against his lover, lifting and dropping, each sink of his body on Steve’s making his cry out. He said Steve’s name over and over until it started to sound like gibberish, like a keening sound of want as it echoed in the early morning sunlight. 

When Steve’s hand snaked between their bodies, fingers wrapping around his cock and spreading the dripping precome with his thumb, Bucky shouted, the feeling of Steve pumping in and out of him while his hand matched the pace was going to make him lose control soon. “ _Steve_ , yes, fuck me, yes please, gonna come.”

Steve couldn’t get any words out at first, just a low moan, Bucky’s voice making Steve _want_ as his stomach twisted in tight knots. He held Bucky with his free hand, keeping him from moving on his own, just having to take what Steve was giving him. Steve smirked at Bucky’s groan of frustration, feeling him tighten his muscles and trying to move his hips up and down.

“No, love, just take it, just let it come, slow and easy, that’s it love. Want this to last forever, you riding me, taking me so good, all stretched and wrecked. That’s good, just a little longer, god you’re beautiful, wanna draw you like this and show everyone you’re _mine_ and this is only for us. Jesus, Bucky.”

Bucky was a mess, biting his lip in concentration, eyes screwing shut as he placed his hands on Steve’s chest for support. He felt like he was being pulled apart in the best way, taut like a rubber band that was going to snap. The words Steve spoke, the _mouth_ on him, was going to be his complete and utter downfall. He would never get over the sound of his name on Steve’s lips, the way his breath hitched slightly as he pronounced the ‘k’ in Bucky.

When Steve asked if he was alright, Bucky nodded, too focused on the feeling of Steve moving against him, inside him, their skin sliding with such heat. Insatiable, their bodies becoming one, over and over.

“You’re gonna come just from this, just from me fucking you, my dick in that tight little ass of yours. Want you to feel me in you all day,” Steve growled as he tugged Bucky against him, nipping along his neck before crashing their lips together. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to last, and he wanted Bucky to come first. Steve needed him to come first, so he could watch Bucky fall apart. “You can do it, love, I know you can come like this for me.”

He hadn't needed the encouragement, already looking over the edge of his pleasure, just a few inches from tumbling over the precipice. Bucky opened his eyes, looking down into Steve’s, his heart rate speeding as he saw the fire inside his love, burning hotter and bigger every second. 

“Just you, pushing into me, filling me,” Bucky groaned, leaning forward enough to catch Steve’s mouth, tongue tasting and breathing ragged. “So close.”

It was too much, it was suddenly too much for Steve and he slammed Bucky down, Power flitting into him and twisting to make Bucky shout in surprise as he came, mouth dropping open as he nearly screamed Steve’s name and fucked himself down onto Steve over and over again as he came all over Steve’s chest. Steve pushed with Power again, drawing out Bucky’s orgasm as Steve found his own, stilling in Bucky and seeing stars dance across his vision.

“Uh, uh, Bucky, oh my god, _fuckfuckfuck_ , a-ah,” Steve shouted, body bowing back as he tried to get Bucky as close to him as possible.

Bucky felt like he was one giant nerve, every breath Steve made singing into him and making him jump and react. He gasped when he felt an aftershock rock through him, and he gripped at Steve’s hair with his fingers, the sweaty strands grounding him. “ _Fuck_ , Steve. That was… _damn_.”

“Lazy morning sex is the best idea you’ve had today, Barnes,” Steve huffed out, trying to catch his breath between little twitches of aftershock. Jesus. “How .. so good.. Goddamn. God. Damn.” Everything was so sensitive that Bucky’s hands in his hair made him feel on fire, the rub of his nipples on Steve’s chest, the hair on his legs. Everything shot little bolts of need through him.

Grinning, his cheek resting on Steve’s chest, Bucky dug his nails into Steve’s neck the slightest bit. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to move the rest of the day.” He laid there, basking in the afterglow, listening as Steve’s heartbeat returned to a normal rate. The steady _thumpthump_ was soothing and Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, content and happy and so _so_ fulfilled. 

“But it’s Halloween, Bucky. The most wonderful day of the year. I mean, I’m happy to spend all day with you in bed. Seeing how many times I can make you come until you’re begging me to stop and I get at least one more out of you,” Steve replied, dropping a kiss on Bucky’s hair.

Despite his ravenous appetite for Steve, and the _desperate want_ that filled him with the scene Steve’s words formed in his head, Bucky couldn’t help but lift his head and grin at his lover, a manic happiness in the grey of his eyes. “Halloween. _Halloween_ , Steve! The Great Pumpkin. Bats and spiderwebs and costumes and dancing.”

There weren’t many things that Bucky loved more than October thirty-first, but the man sprawled beneath him was one. He stretched his neck, Steve’s lips meeting his, satisfied and humming. “We should shower. Halloween waits for no man.”

“I see where I stand. Fine, but I want waffles.”


	11. This is Halloween, Everybody Make a Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary " _Scientists may have sophisticated laboratories, but never forget 'eureka' was inspired in a bathtub._ " - Toba Beta
> 
> It’s Halloween Party time!

“I think we may have lost her to the sea,” Steve commented, setting his phone down on the counter of the bathroom and putting it on speaker. He caught a glimpse of Bucky behind him, still dripping from their shared shower and looked his fill before turning back to the sink to shave.

“What do you mean? Lost who?” Bucky’s voice was muffled from where he was scrubbing his hair dry with a towel.

“I’m letting you know, that I am never, _ever_ leaving this bathtub. We have come to know each other Biblically, and must wed to preserve my virtue,” Darcy said, loud enough for Jane to hear in the other room.

They heard the warm sound of Jane’s laugh come over the speaker.

“Don’t judge me, Janey. It’s not my fault you decided to use the shower like a peasant.”

Bucky leered at Steve before smacking his ass playfully as he walked into the open room.

“I didn’t feel the least bit plebeian in the shower, did you Steve?”

“I felt a lot of things in the shower, but not a plebe.”

“We get it, your sex life is amazing, _jeez_ , shut up about it already!” They could hear the sloshing of water as Darcy laughed. Steve shook his head at himself in the mirror, spreading the lather over his face. 

“Do you need any help with getting your costume on? The wings?” Steve could hear when Darcy picked up the phone and carried it with her.

“No. I think Jane’s got it. Right Jane?” He heard a muffled response and Darcy’s laughter.

“What’d she say?”

“ _I said she’s like an evil Big Bird!_ ”

Steve braced himself on the counter as he laughed, glancing up to see Bucky lean against the door to the bathroom in his briefs. “Did she just say evil Big Bird?”

“There are worse things to look like!” Jane shouted.

“Like what, Janey?”

“Like your mom!”

“Gotta go, guys, need you to be my alibi and plausible deniability - get back here Jane Foster!”

Steve was still laughing when Darcy hung up the phone. Bucky had his face in his hand and was just shaking in laughter as well.

“Tonight is going to be so much fun.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Why do you keep insisting on costumes that have this many damn layers, Steve?”

“Wouldn’t want you to catch a chill, my hothouse flower,” Steve’s reply was muffled by the faux jeweled stick pin in his mouth. “How often do you get to say you’re wearing a cravat, anyways?”

He fussed with the way the dark burgundy fabric lay around Bucky’s neck for a few minutes more, and then fastened the pin.

“I think you’re done.” 

“It’s about damn time. We need to get downstairs. I used to be punctual, before you, punk,” Bucky teased Steve. He grabbed the box laying on the bed and tugged Steve in for a kiss, gasping back when a spark popped between their lips.

“Ow, dammit Steve.”

Steve winced, reaching up to press fingers against his lips. “It’s not like I can help it,” he said with a small frown. His entire body had felt like a live wire for the past few days, everything leading up to his birthday. In addition to electricity that felt like lightning under his skin, he’d also been unable to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. He’d used the time for good, sketching and studying and preparing for classes, but he also felt like a taut rubber band. He was worried he’d snap any second.

“I know,” Bucky said, reaching out to thread his fingers with Steve’s. He’d seen the tension and anxiety in his lover ramp up in the mad-dash to his birthday. The next two days were going to be the hardest. There was a look in Steve’s eyes, pupils dilated and taking everything in. It reminded him of when they were young and ate _way_ too much sugar and caffeine. He was amped, full of energy, and sparking - literally and figuratively - in every movement.

“Let’s go wait for the girls.”

*~*~*~*~*

“You got me flowers, James? You didn’t have to. Our love is a secret love, no need to flaunt it,” Clint grinned as he picked out a boutonnier and the single flower for Natasha’s hair that he’d ordered.

Handing off the open box to Sam, Bucky grabbed Clint, dipped him, and gave him a sloppy kiss.

“ _Mon amour_.”

“James - that’s French!”

“I’d thought by now y’all would be less weird. Nope. Just keeps getting weirder,” Sam grinned, pulling out his phone. “This is so going up on FaceBook.”

“It’s Halloween,” Bucky said, posing with Clint as Sam took their picture. He set the blond upright and reached out to hug Sam, who protested the embrace with slapping hands. “It’s _supposed_ to be weird!”

“Has he been like this all day?” Clint asked, shaking his head as Bucky continued to hold onto Sam. 

“All. Day.” Steve smiled, practically bouncing on his feet. 

Clint was saying something about the latest episode of _The Dog Whisperer_ when the elevator dinged, and all four of the men turned in sync to watch as the women let themselves out. 

The girls were laughing at something Darcy had said about Professor Odinson, if Jane’s face was any indication, and Bucky was certain she hadn’t used his proper title of ‘Professor Odinson’, but her more colorful nickname of _Professor McHottie_. 

“ _Woooooow_ ,” came from Clint, his mouth dropping open as he spotted Natasha. All of the boys wore similar expressions of appreciation as they took in everyone’s costumes. 

“Right back at ya,” Darcy said, grinning at the boys and their suits. She’d told Bucky she’d been afraid of overdressing, but it appeared everyone fit together perfectly. They all had a hint of gold or bronze, something that made them stand out. As far as group costumes went, they’d been very successful.

Steve bowed low, hand outstretched as he glanced up at all of them. “Ladies. May we request the honor of your presence this fine All Hallow’s Eve?”

Wanda laughed and both Jane and Natasha raised eyebrows at his show. Darcy didn’t have a skirt, choosing to stick with dark, soft leggings that led into knee-high boots, but she mimed a curtsy in his direction. “We accept, my Lords,” she answered, Jane rolling her eyes to Darcy’s right.

Steve looked up at her from his bow, a grin turning his lips. “You look amazing, Darce.”

Her smile brightened. “I had some help.”

“Sirs, whenever you’re ready,” came a voice near the lobby entrance

Bucky’s face was bright with mischief and he had to keep himself from giggling. This was probably the favorite part of his plans for everyone this evening. Grabbing Steve hand, he led them into the perfect Halloween night. He’d only had to push the smallest amount of power for the skies to remain clear, another thought had led to a soft fog rolling over the hills near the road.

“Our transportation for the evening.”

Darcy stopped short, Jane almost falling with sudden change in movement. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve always wanted to ride in a carriage!”

“I think this may be the most ridiculously awesome thing you’ve ever done for Halloween.”

“Even more than the time he ate-”

“ _Yes, Barton_.”

The driver cleared his throat quietly, opening the door to help the ladies into the coach, and the boys after. He showed them the blankets at their feet before hopping up and clicking his tongue to the horses as they began to move. 

Bucky felt the air in the carriage warm to just below comfortable, and he saw the black and fire disappear from Clint’s eyes. The sandy blond just shrugged at him, draping his arm behind Natasha.

It took a few minutes for Darcy to get comfortable in the front, sandwiched between Steve and Bucky. The wings on her costume were big enough that she had to turn to the side to fit properly. She let out a gasp when a shock of electricity shot between her and Steve. “ _Oh_!”

Steve looked over at her apologetically. “Must be the static electricity from the blanket,” he said, reaching out to run his hand over the skin where he’d shocked her. Bucky made a small bit of noise, something close to a laugh, and Steve glared in his direction.

They got interested looks from everyone that rode by, several children pointing at at the carriage, stilling them as they ran from door to door, asking for candy. Steve’s soft glare had melted into a wide grin and his toe tapped out a rhythm as they travelled. It didn’t matter what he did, the energy coursing through his body needed an outlet.

“Are you cold?” Darcy asked, concern on her face.

“I’m fine. Just excited.”

The neighborhoods they rode through became canopied by large trees, blotting out the moonlight and casting eerie shadows into the darkness. The houses grew larger and farther apart until you couldn’t even see the home from the street, only the driveway paths lit by row after row of lamp posts until those, too, faded into black.

“I haven’t been to this part of the city before,” Natasha said.

“Me neither,” Darcy said, face toward the rolling hills and the fog creeping over it all. “What was it like growing up out here?”

“Boring,” Bucky said, stretching to put an arm across the back of their seat, fingers playing with the feathers on Darcy’s costume. “Most of the time we were outside, causing trouble. Anything was better than being at home.”

“Playing in the dirt, riding bikes. Building a treehouse…”

“... _trying_ to build a treehouse.” Sam corrected Clint.

*~*~*~*~*

Steve snickered into Bucky’s shoulder, shaking his head as his lover told the story. His imitation of old Captain Harkness was always spot on.

“And he had the meanest damn cat. Would chase Steve around like a damn dog, and poor Steve’s allergies, making him sneeze, You could hear yowling and sneezing down the block.”

“Thanks, Bucky, for painting me even more gracefully than I already am.”

Darcy was wheezing with laughter, the music of the band filling the room with enough noise that they were pressed together to hear over it. The people around them were laughing, dancing, having an amazing time. Everyone else had gone to as much trouble for their costumes as they had and the party as a whole was amazing.

“Please tell me there’s video.”

“Of course there is. That mean puss chased Steven home near everyday ‘til it died,“ came a soft voice with an Irish accent from Steve’s left side.

“Ma! I didn’t know if I’d see you,” Steve said, dropping a kiss on her upturned cheek. Sarah Rogers was a petite, trim woman, her sunny blonde hair styled in intricate curls and waves. Anyone who looked at Sarah was seeing Steve’s blue eyes in her face. It was clear where he’d gotten his looks.

“You thought you wouldn't see me? More like you thought you wouldn’t look for me as long as you had champagne in your hand. It’s not quite your birthday. And a Happy Hallowe’en to you, James. I hope you - and here is me being rude and not introducing myself to this lovely lady.” she elbowed Steve. “And you not introducing her. Sarah Rogers, this boyo’s long suffering mother.” Her dark eyes twinkled with amusement.

Darcy shook Sarah’s hand with a large smile, “Darcy Lewis, it’s very nice to meet you. They’ve told me stories. But only good ones, I promise,” she added, laughing when Steve gave her a look of slight panic over Sarah’s shoulder. 

“Darcy’s in our group for History,” Steve explained, “we let her in because she knows the TA.”

“Liar.”

“And you you make sure these boys are holding their own?” Sarah asked, looking knowingly at both Steve and Bucky.

“Oh, trust me, she has no problem putting us in her place. She can be quite scary when she wants to be.” Bucky said, grinning in Darcy’s direction.

“Well, you need it James Buchanan.”

 _Buchanan?_ Darcy mouthed at Steve. He nodded, grin wide. She took a step backward as another gorgeous woman approached the four of them.

“Hi, Ma.”

“Don’t you ‘ _Hi, Ma_ ’, me, young man,” the tall woman said to Bucky, pulling him into a hug. 

“Haven’t been home for supper in a month of Sundays.”

“Ma, it’s fine. Darcy, this is my ma, Winifred Barnes. Ma, this is Darcy Lewis.” He turned and made a face at Steve, sticking his tongue out.

“Don’t be a brat, James,” Sarah popped at him with her clutch, “or it’ll be no gingerbread men for you at Christmas.”

Darcy grinned, looking between the two women. They were smiling and wearing heavy velvet dress with petticoats, a matching gorgeous hat perched on the top of beautifully styled hair. Even more, they were so like Bucky and Steve that it was incredible.

“Oh, there’s Katherine Bowers, spiking the damn punch, again. Can’t she at least use _good_ vodka? I’ve got to deal with that, dears. Do come catch me again before you leave, hmm?” Winifred dropped a kiss on Steve’s cheek before pulling an eye rolling Sarah behind her.

“So, your moms?”

“Dad always calls her Hurricane Fred,” Bucky supplied. “That’s pretty normal.”

“No, they’re awesome.” She turned back to Steve and Bucky with squinting eyes. “Gotta wonder what happened with you two, though. Apples and trees and all that.” She laughed and feigned a cry of pain when Steve reached out and bopped her nose. 

Darcy drank what was left in her glass and cast a glance toward tables where the drinks were laid out. “I’m going to get another drink. And maybe ask your moms for the most embarrassing stories about you that they can think of…” she walked backwards, leveling a mischievous smirk at them as she left.

Steve laughed, shaking his head as he turned to Bucky. “I told you she’d be angry about Sunday dinners.”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” Bucky said, eyes scanning the crowd gathered. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Steve, but he kept his hands to himself for the moment. His boyfriend looked delicious in his costume and with the energy he was expending, he was almost glowing. Bucky couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of him.

He took another sip from his champagne, gaze turning to scan the room. The band’s music filled the room, haunting and perfect for the occasion. Several people were on the floor, spinning along, and he spotted Clint and Natasha in the middle. Natasha was beautiful, moving to the music like the trained dancer she was, and Clint was surprisingly keeping up with her. 

Bucky turned back to look at Steve, feeling the heat from the man at his side, hungry for his touch. “Do you think there’s anyone else we have to say hello to, or did you think we could disappear for a few minutes?”

“I see your dad over with Senator Blumenthal, so I think we’re good,” Steve replied, following Bucky’s eyes. He smiled as he watched Sam and Wanda to the side of the room, near one of the doors, heads close together, Sam playing with a tendril of her now-red tipped hair.

“What did you have in mind, hmmm?” He bumped his shoulder into Bucky’s.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, nodding toward the large staircase toward the back of the room. “There have to be a bunch of empty, quiet rooms upstairs we can explore.” His hand snaked into Steve’s jacket, fingers sliding over the brocade vest that laid beneath.

They’d started toward the stairs when the lights above them flashed twice. Bucky looked up, then glanced at Steve with a raised eyebrow. _Was that you?_ he asked Steve.

 _Probably._ Steve answered, eyebrows knitting together. He looked around the room, but didn’t see anything out of place. He turned back to Bucky with a shrug of his shoulders, a knowing smile flowed onto his lips and he tugged at Bucky’s hand.

He led Bucky up the stairs, passing several people on the way. Most everyone was wearing some type of mask, giving an air of anonymity that Steve took full advantage of. It was easy enough to slip into a room and lock it. This party was by invite only and the people who frequented this echelon of society were above worrying about petty theft from guests.

The second the door had closed behind them, Bucky had Steve pressed against the wood, lips on his neck and hands trailing to his sides and hips before settling on his ass and squeezing. “You’re fucking glowing,” Bucky growled against his skin, fingernails scraping against the fabric. 

“As long as I’m not sparkling like a fucking vampire,” Steve snarked, breath coming out in a short huff. “Jesus, Buck. Twice earlier wasn’t enough for you?” They’d woken up with lazy morning sex, all slow and quiet, before the sun had even risen. Bucky had made them late getting to the hotel, deciding that he couldn’t wait until later to have his mouth on Steve. Steve had happily returned the favor, sucking Bucky off in his truck near the woods.

“Never enough,” Bucky breathed, capturing Steve’s mouth with his own. The kiss was sloppy, all lips and teeth and tongue, and he fed hungrily from Steve, because he _couldn’t_ seem to get enough of the man. It had taken too much time to get into the costumes originally, so Bucky didn’t want to mess with them now. Instead, he redirected them toward the plush couches of the library, surrounding a fireplace that was cold and empty of flames.

Bucky pushed Steve into the chair, dropping to his knees in front of the blond. He looked up at Steve through his lashes, noting the pink on his cheeks and the slight part of his lips. Bucky ran his hand over the front of Steve’s pants, feeling his lover ready and hard beneath the fabric. “Fuck, I want you all the time, Steve. Every minute.”

Heat shot through Steve at the tone of Bucky’s voice. Just the thinnest line of grey was left around Bucky’s pupils, they were so blown. His lips were red and damp, hair already mussed. God, it made Steve feel weak at the knees and like he could run a marathon at the same time. The fireplace roared to life as his hands fisted into Bucky’s hair. Shit. Everything was so sensitive, he could feel the draft from the old windows, the nap of the velvet couches, could smell the old leather and paper of the books.

“I want you up here, want your skin on mine,” Steve growled. The wanting of this man was going to kill him. He’d die happily. 

“Your wish...” Bucky said then trailed off, rising so he was face to face with Steve. He placed his hands on either side of Steve’s head, leaning forward, showing Steve with his mouth how much he wanted him.

The fire made the room impossibly warm but Bucky didn’t care because his mouth was on Steve’s, fingers pulled at his hair, soft sighs and moans of want echoing in the large room. It took such a little thought, such a small push of power, before their skin was bare, warmth and velvet pressed together. “Tell me what you want,” Bucky demanded, voice husky and lust filled.

 _This_ , he wanted _this_. Skin on skin, breathing the same air. Everything pinpoint focused on the man in front of him. Steve pulled Bucky down, turning them so he could bracket Bucky’s hips with his thighs. 

“Want to ride you until you come in me. Feel your hands and mouth all over. Mark me, wanna feel you when I walk,” Steve babbled against Bucky’s mouth in between sloppy bites and kisses. He nipped at Bucky’s collar bone, following the hollow of muscle and bone, leaving a bite on the fleshy bit. He grinned at Bucky’s grunt of pleasure. “What do you think took me so long to get ready earlier?”

Bucky’s head fell back against the chair at Steve’s words, his hands holding Steve’s hips hard, fingers digging into skin. He hissed when Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock, hot and hard as it moved up and down. Bucky’s hands pulled harder on Steve’s ass, spreading him wider, positioning him just right.

Lips brushed along Steve’s jawline as he sat higher, the slight stubble rubbing against Bucky’s lips with just the right amount of friction. His face would be red afterward, lips plump and swollen, but he’d wear it like a trophy. Everyone would see it and read _This one’s mine._

He locked eyes with Steve, the fire casting one side of Steve’s face in flames, the other in shadows. “Beautiful,” he breathed, hand reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek, thumb rubbing skin before his hand fisted in the hair at the back of his neck as he moved upward, slowly.

Steve sank down on Bucky, warm, and hard, and he felt so _full_ , the head pushing past that first ring of muscle, just brushing his prostate as Steve finally met Bucky’s hips. 

“You feel so damn good, Buck.” Bracing his hands on Bucky’s thighs, Steve leaned back and rolled his hips, fucking himself on Bucky’s cock. Lifting his hips up, he slammed down again, and again, and again, hitting his prostate each time, bits of light dancing in his vision. “So, good, better than I could have ever imagined. _Fuck._ ”

Bucky’s hips wanted to move up to meet Steve, but he let his lover do what he wanted, hands circling Steve’s waist, holding him close as he moved. His breathing had gone ragged, small sounds escaping every time he was fully surrounded by Steve, enveloped in the man’s warmth and body. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, Bucky stared in awe at Steve, seeing the play of emotions as they flowed over his face. 

The feeling was almost too much, skin and heat and _ohmygodrighttheredontstop_ , and Bucky began to thrust upward, their bodies filling the room with the sound of skin hitting skin. “Fuck, Steve, _yes_!”

“That’s it, lover, fuck me, make me come, _oh god_ , there, yes, please, please, please, _fuck_ ,” Steve breathed, head thrown back as Bucky moved in him, hips trying to keep up. The room was hot, so hot, and sweat trickled down his back. The books had started to rattle in their shelves, and there was a crack of lightning outside.

Steve bit his lip to keep from screaming when Bucky’s hand finally wrapped around him, stroking fast and hard.

“Yes, James,” he hissed.

There was no slowing down now, not with the way Steve was moaning, not with the way he dropped himself onto Bucky, losing himself in the want and need. He wanted Steve to break like waves, crashing over and over, and it wasn’t going to be long before Bucky came himself.

“Fuck, yes, so tight, want to make you _scream_ ,” Bucky panted, hips and hands moving in a frenzy now, wanting to empty himself inside while Steve came, warm and hot between their bodies.

The fire spiked in the hearth, a long-charred piece of log popping with the heat. Bucky leaned forward, right hand stoking Steve, the other holding him close. His face rubbed against Steve’s shoulder, and Bucky’s tongue darted out, catching a bead of sweat as it began to roll down Steve’s chest, tasting salt, Power and _Steve_.

“Gonna come,” Bucky moaned in warning.

“I want you to come. Wanna - _fuck_ \- make you feel so good, Buck,” Steve grunted out, thrusting into Bucky’s fist, not far behind. He tugged on Bucky’s face up to his, looking him in the eye. “Come for me, come in me, Bucky, please.”

There was no way he’d be able to look into those blue eyes and deny this man anything he asked for. The look on Steve’s face, content and happy and full of love, had Bucky calling out his name, the sound bouncing on the walls and muffled only by the crack of thunder as the rain began to pelt the windows.

Hips jutting upward, Bucky rode his orgasm, hand urging Steve, wanting to see him fall apart. He kept his eyes open, wide and hungry and full, “feels so good, _fuck_ , need you to come, love.”

Steve’s mouth opened in a silent scream as he came around Bucky, feeling his lover pulsing inside, hand relentless on his cock, his fingers leaving bruises on his hip. He fell into Bucky’s eyes, black with lust and power. 

The books came flying off the shelves and the room smelled like ozone and sex.

*~*~*~*~*

Bucky nudged Steve with his elbow as they made their way back down the steps.

“No, this is actually your fault,” he said.

“Shut it, jerk,” Steve replied, pulling Bucky to him for a quick kiss.

“Well, and if it isn’t about damn time you got into each other’s pants,” Sarah Rogers lilted from her spot by the stairs, grin on her face.

Bucky pulled back from Steve, turning to Sarah with wide eyes and quickly pinkening cheeks. 

“We-”

“Ma-”

Sarah silenced them both with a hand in the air, a smirk on her lips that looked eerily similar to Steve’s. “Whatever was about to come out of your mouths is unnecessary. I’m happy for both of you.” She reached out and pressed a hand to each of their cheeks. “I was beginning to think you were both blind.”

“Blind and stupid,” Winifred corrected, heels clipping on the stone steps as she came to stand next to Sarah in front of the boys. 

“How do they always _do_ that?”

“Fucking creepy.”

“It _is_ fucking creepy,” Winifred said, smirking. “That’s why we do it. You should be attending to your guests. We raised you better than that.”

“Yes, Ma.”

Blushing, Bucky and Steve made their way back into the other room, making a beeline for drinks and their group of friends. There was safety in numbers.

*~*~*~*~*

Darcy smiled at Steve and Bucky as they approached. Their faces were a bit pink, and she could see their mothers looking at their backs from the steps leading upstairs. “Where _were_ you guys? You missed Sam challenging Natasha to a ballerina battle!”

She bubbled with laughter when their eyes snapped wider in unison. She bent, hair falling around her shoulders, body shaking with the laughter. 

She ignored the narrowed eyes they cast in her direction, holding out two glasses toward them. “Steve, I talked your mom into letting you drink as long as I was there to chaperone. So drink up, I’m already three ahead of you.”

“I don’t know how you managed that, but you are a literal saint, Darcy Lewis,” Steve pressed a kiss to her cheek before knocking back the glass of champagne. 

“She made me swear my unfaltering allegiance to her dark master but I figured it’s Halloween so that seems pretty much on point.”

Bucky’s eyes followed Darcy’s as she glanced over Bucky’s shoulder, toward the main entrance, her mouth dropping open in shock. 

“Oh. My. God.”

A very large, very attractive Professor Odinson had just entered the party. Yes, he was an hour or two late, but it didn’t matter, not when he looked like he did. His hair was pulled back from his face, his costume some kind of hunter, body covered in leather, a heavy coat with metal buttons, and a real metal ax thrown over his shoulder. 

“ _Fuck me_ ,” she breathed, color starting on her cheeks.

“I’m going to touch- I mean, I’m going to go say hot... I’m going to go say _hi_. I’ll be back in a sex - _sec_! I’ll be back in a sec.”

“So, that’s… wow. Is that actually legal in this state?” Steve asked Bucky as his eyes followed Darcy’s wings across the room. Professor Odinson filled out his button up and slacks nicely. Dressed up in leather like pants? Steve sent out a thought of thanks to the Great Pumpkin. “And should we be worried about Darcy and Ma?”

“Oh, we most definitely should be worried about Ma and Darce,” Bucky answered, handing Steve another drink when he’d quickly downed the one in his hand. “And as far as _that_ goes? Tuesday and Thursday mornings are going to be a lot more interesting.” His lips curled up into a smirk and he closed the distance between their bodies, reaching out to pinch Steve’s ass through his pants. “We should get you a pair of leather pants like that.”

“Mmmm, funny, I was just thinking the same thing.” Steve kissed the smirk, tasting champagne and _Bucky_. “Wanna head back to the room?”

“Hell yes. We’ve shown our faces for a reasonably acceptable amount of time,” Bucky answered, placing his empty glass on the table behind them. “I noticed earlier that the elevators at the hotel have mirrors on the walls and ceiling…”


	12. Between the Sinners and the Saints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _You are an ally because of your actions, not because you say you are. (Kate Schatz)_ ”  
> ― Carolina De Robertis, Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times
> 
> Warning: Ward is violent with Darcy. She hits him back. The boys get protective.

Darcy’s feet ached in the best way possible. She’d spent the majority of the night dancing with anyone who would do so. Almost all the guests at the party loved to dance and were more than willing to take her on a spin around the floor, so she’d been in heaven. She’d taken a break at the side of the floor, drinking a quick glass of champagne, but when a tall man in a black-on-black suit held his hand out toward her, a matte black mask hiding his face from sight, she found herself intrigued. 

As he led her around floor, Darcy was impressed with his abilities. His hand was firm on her hip and he seemed confident as they moved with the rest of the people still on the floor. When the song ended, she smiled up at him. “Thanks for the dance, sir. Happy Halloween!”

She’d begun to pull herself from his grasp but frowned when his grip tightened on her hip and wrist. “Maybe we can take another turn around the floor a little later, yeah?”

“I can’t believe you’d rather dance with strangers than with me.”

Darcy’s eyes widened when she recognized the voice behind the mask. “Grant? What are you doing here?”

“I’m making sure you haven’t forgotten me. You’ve danced with practically every man in this place but me.”

Her eyes hardened as she glared up at the faceless mask. She tried to pull herself away from him again, but his vice-like grip tightened and she felt the first bite of pain. “Let go of me, Grant.”

“Did you even _think_ of me tonight? Or were you too busy flirting with anyone who would give you a hint of attention?”

When he pulled her roughly toward him, she could feel her wrist bones grinding together, his fingers digging harshly into the muscle of her hip. “You’re hurting me, Grant. Let me go.”

“I can’t believe you, Darcy. Throwing yourself around, putting everything on display. I didn’t know you were such a slut.”

Rage and fear rolled within her chest, her breathing speeding up as heat filled her cheeks. “ _Let go of me!_ ” she screamed. Grant seemed to flinch as the eyes in the room turned toward them at her shout. He released his grip on her in surprise and she reached up with her left hand, tearing the mask from his face, while her right hit his cheek with a meaty _slap_. There was a moment of shock for both of them, but Darcy took a step backward when the promise of pain filled his eyes and he advanced on her.

“I think you’ll be leaving now,” a voice from behind Darcy sounded. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Sarah and Winifred, as well as Bucky’s father, their body language unmistakably pissed off.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Grant spat out, reaching out to grab Darcy again.

Sarah closed the distance between her and Darcy, placing a reassuring hand on Darcy’s. “That’s where you’re wrong, boyo. Now you can leave on your own…”

“...or we can throw you out.” Winifred said, coming to stand on Darcy’s other side.

Ward looked between the two women, gaze flicking to the man standing behind them, then frowned as his eyes landed on Darcy. “Darcy, if you -”

“You need to go, Grant. Now.”

“We can talk about this -”

Darcy’s laughter was hollow as it fell past her lips. “Oh, we are _never_ talking about another thing. _Ever_. Lose my number, you fucking asshole.” Darcy watched him weigh his options, sadly choosing to leave the floor under his own power. George Barnes laid a hand on her arm comfortingly as he passed, escorting the angry frat boy toward the front door.

When he was out of sight, Darcy’s shoulders slumped, the bravado she’d used on Grant draining and being replaced with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” she said, turning to both Sarah and Winifred with flaming cheeks and tears in her eyes. “I didn’t know he -”

Sarah placed a hand to Darcy’s cheek, her face soft and voice soothing. “Oh, Darcy, you have nothing to apologize for. That man -”

“- that _boy_ ,” Winifred interrupted, anger in her voice, “is horrid and you deserve so much better. If he even _thinks_ about coming near you again, you call 911 immediately.”

Darcy nodded, glad that she was able to blink past the tears that were threatening. “Thank you for a wonderful evening but I think I’m going to head back to the hotel room.”

“Are you sure? We could take you, let the boys know -”

Shaking her head vigorously, Darcy took a step back, feeling guilty as their arms fell away from her. “Oh, no, that’s alright. I don’t want to bother them. I’ll just head home, take a shower, and go to bed. I’m sure it’ll be better in the morning.”

“Only if you’re sure, dear,” Sarah said, watching as the young woman seemed to straighten her shoulders. “There are cars out front that can take you back.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much. This was a wonderful party, really. Thank you.”

Sarah watched the girl all but run from the room. “We should -” When she glanced over her shoulder, she could see Winifred already had her phone pressed to her ear, her voice soft as she started talking with James

*~*~*~*~*

When the elevator doors pinged and opened, Bucky and Steve stood in the hallway, waiting. Darcy stood there, frozen, looking at them with tears on her cheeks. It filled Steve with righteous anger but he did his best to keep his eyes soft as they looked at her. Darcy looked ready to fall apart, so when she sobbed, it came as no surprise. She ran into his arms and he wrapped them around her as she cried against his chest.

Winifred had given Bucky the short version, and Steve had watched the color drain from his lover’s cheeks. When Bucky’d gotten out of bed without a word and begun to pull his pajamas on, Steve had followed suit. He hadn’t needed to hear the conversation to know that something was wrong. As they’d stood in the hall, Bucky had bitten out what he’d been told, words clipped and fists clenched at his sides. They’d waited what seemed like forever before they’d heard the arrival of the elevator.

“Shh, shh. Come on then,” Bucky said, reaching out to rub at Darcy’s back, gesturing at Steve to move them to their room. It was only a few rooms down the hallway, and they’d left it unlocked, not knowing what to expect. 

Steve nodded, lifting Darcy into his arms and carrying her after Bucky and followed him toward their room. He glanced over his shoulder at the boots and they disappeared a second later, his eyes flashing black with flames.

Maneuvering her wings through the doorway and past Bucky, Steve set her down on the king-sized bed, ducking his head to try and catch her gaze. Darcy hid her face with her hands and Steve glanced over at Bucky with worried eyes.

 _Yeah, I see them_ , Bucky’s voice growled in Steve’s head, the bruises around her wrist already turning a deep shade of purple.. 

_I hope his dick shrivels off and his hair falls out. After we kick the shit out of him._ Steve’s voice was harsh in his own head. Bitter. Angry.

“What happened, doll? Ma called and said Grant was at the party after we left. I won’t repeat what she said, but she went into the Irish, and that’s never good.” Steve kneeled down in front of her. “Did he hurt you?”

Darcy shifted on the bed when Bucky’s weight joined hers. He gently pulled her hands from her face, pulling her to his chest.

“My wrist. My hip.” The words were clipped, short, little hiccups making her shoulders jump. “That doesn’t matter,” she said.

“The hell it doesn’t,” Bucky growled. He frowned when Steve shot him a look at the tone in his voice, not wanting to scare Darcy. He softened his voice and pressed his cheek against her hair. “What happened?”

“He said he’d been watching me dance, said I should have been with him at whatever party he was at. He... “ Darcy shook her head, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. 

Teeth grinding, Bucky’s jaw ticked with anger. _He put his hands on her_ , his voice rough and hard, like concrete in Steve’s head.

“He had no right to touch you like that,” Steve told her, thumb reaching up to clear a tear as it rolled down her cheek, ending up smearing her makeup even more.

“I know,” Darcy whispered. Her eyes cleared for a second as she looked down at Steve, jaw clenching, eyes lighting with defiance. “ _I know_. I hit him. Slapped him across the cheek.” He gave her a small smile, which fell a second later as she started crying harder, burying her head against Bucky’s chest.

 _I’m going to murder him_ , Steve thought at Bucky, anger coloring his eyes from their normal sky blue to a deep, fiery cobalt. A flash of lightning streaked across the window, and the wind picked up, rustling the trees and branches hitting the side of the building.

“Do you want us to get Jane for you?”

“ _No_!” Darcy shook her head, and straightened. “No, please. She has the bathtub with the Norse God. I am in no way interfering with sexy times.” 

She pulled back, running her hands through her hair. She stopped, dropping her hands to her sides. “Fuck. Oh, _god_. I did already, with you two and the hotel sex. Fuck. Just give me a minute and I’ll get a cab and go back to the dorm. Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

“Do you really think we’re going to make you go away? Be by yourself? If that’s what you _really_ want, I’ll call the car around to take you back,” Bucky said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “One of us will go with you to make sure you get back all right. But you are more than welcome to stay here with us. There’s plenty of room.”

“Ma would kill us both then bring us back to do it again if we just let you go home,” Steve said, only partially joking. “We’ll both do whatever you want or need us to do, but we’d feel better if you weren’t alone tonight.”

Darcy’s lower lip trembled a little, but Steve watched a thread of resolve straighten her back. “I need to clean my feet,” she said, wiggling her toes, which were almost black with dirt from all the barefoot dancing she’d done.

Bucky smiled softly, standing up and holding his hand out for her. “That we can do.” He pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her, resting his cheek to her head. She sighed against his chest, and he looked at Steve, a mix of worry and anger in the stormy-grey of his eyes. Steve crossed to their open suitcase, grabbing a pair of knit pants and a t-shirt, holding them out to Darcy. “Here, you take a shower and then we’ll try to get some sleep, yeah?”

Darcy pulled back from Bucky and nodded, took the offered clothing and slipped into the bathroom, the door clicking closed quietly. They heard the water start, and both men let out the long breath they’d been holding.

“C’mere, Steve, I need a hug,” Bucky sighed when Steve wrapped his arms around him, leaning his head into the crook of Steve’s neck and just breathing.

“This is bullshit.” The rain was hitting against the window heavily now, flashes of lightning breaking through the curtains at regular intervals. The fury of the storm outside paled in comparison to the one brewing in Steve’s head.

“He had to have snuck in,” Bucky growled, shaking his head as he pulled back to look at Steve, his face set into angry lines. With Darcy in the shower, he didn’t have to lower his voice or clear it of the heavy weight of outrage. “There’s no way he got an invite. Which means he forged one. Why go to all that trouble?”

Steve just shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t like it either. What’d Ma say?”

“Said he was dressed in all black. They were dancing. They stopped dancing, Darce screamed, hit him, and he took a step toward her, saying nasty things. They escorted him out.” His mother hadn’t heard exactly how the fight started, but she’d told him enough of what she _did_ hear. “The bastard said they’d discuss it later. But he put his hands on her, Steve. Those bruises-”

“I know,” Steve said, reaching out to put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. It had only been a few months, but Darcy felt like family. It’s how they always functioned. First it’d been him and Bucky. When Clint and Sam had shown up, it was like they’d known each other their whole lives, almost _instantly_ bonding, the four of them closer than Steve had thought possible. And now, he felt they’d done the same thing with Darcy. Family. And that someone had put their hands on his family? He was outraged.

Steve sighed, breathing through his anger, resting his forehead against his lover’s. “Tonight, we make sure Darcy is alright. Tomorrow, we deal with… other things. And we make sure the fucker never touches her again.”

*~*~*~*~*

“He did _what_?” Clint said, his voice echoing in the hallway.

“Keep your voice down,” Sam hissed, putting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. Clint shrugged out of his grip, pacing further down the hall, body full of tension and hard lines. “She’s right on the other side of that door.”

Steve watched the anger spark in Clint’s eyes as he turned and stalked back toward them. “So what are we going to do about it? Let it go?”

“No,” Bucky said, pushing off the wall where he’d been slouching, silent as Steve repeated what had happened last night. “We don’t do nothing.”

“And what do you suggest we do?” Sam asked, arms crossed over his chest, face busy working on the problem. He was the most rational of the group, and the oldest, the one least likely to lead with hysterics. “We can’t hurt him. We can’t touch him. We don’t need that on our conscience.”

“So we do nothing?” Clint hissed again.

Sam leveled a glare at his best friend. Clint had always been quick to anger when it involved family, and it was clear Clint had already accepted Darcy as such. “I’m not saying we do nothing. I’m saying we can’t _hurt_ him.”

“That’s not enough. The fucker’s been following her,” Bucky snapped, voice hard. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand out on end even more wildly. “Sorry. But _if_ we aren’t going to do anything, we’ll hate it more if dickless tries to do something. I wish Pop had called the cops.”

“So they could do what?” Sam asked, turning to Bucky with resolve on his face. “At worst it was assault. He’d be looking at a few weeks in jail, if that. Probation, maybe. He’s the vice president of his frat, a frat full of sons who have high-profile lawyers and prosecutors for fathers.”

Clint shook his head, teeth grinding, still pacing. “That’s not good enough. He put _bruises_ on her, Sam. And that just slides?”

“Who put bruises on who?” Jane asked in a whisper, an empty bucket of ice under arm as she approached. All four boys turned to look at her at once. “What happened?”

Steve sighed. Darcy had wanted to tell Jane herself, but it seemed not even that could go right. 

“There was an incident last night at the party after we’d left,” Sam said when no one started talking. “Grant Ward showed up uninvited. He and Darcy... exchanged words.”

“Is that what they call it? Maybe next you’ll say she walked into a door?”

“ _Clint_.”

The hallway went silent for a beat, Jane looking between all four of them as some sort of tension filled the air. “Someone tell me what the fuck happened.”

“Ward grabbed her and put bruises on her. It was broken up before more could happen, but she’s pretty shaken up about it.” Steve tried to choose his words carefully. He wasn’t sure how to tell what had happened without raising his voice.

Jane flinched and Bucky watched as she swallowed harshly. “Where is she?”

“She stayed with us last night. She’s safe.”

“ _Where. The. Fuck. Is. She?_ ”

Steve nodded toward their room, pulling his key card from his pocket. Jane took it from him as she stalked forward, shoving the ice bucket into Sam’s arms.

The light on the handle flicked green and Jane pushed her way into the room. All four men stood there in the hallway, faces pulled in angry and frustrated lines, not wanting to interrupt the girls’ conversation.

After what seemed like forever, Bucky pulled the keycard from his pocket and pushed the door open softly. The girls were in the bathroom, and he nodded back to the hallway before entering. The rest of the men followed him, taking up stations around the room. They all looked up when the bathroom door opened and Jane stuck her head out.

“We’ll meet you for breakfast in a bit.”

Steve nodded, putting a friendly hand on Clint’s shoulder and leading him out the door. Sam ducked into the bathroom, pressing a quick kiss to Darcy’s cheek before following Steve and Clint. 

Bucky smiled softly at Darcy. “We’ll be downstairs. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, James,” Darcy said, giving him a small smile.

*~*~*~*~*

All four boys stood when Darcy and Jane made their way into the lobby. Darcy’s hair was damp and hung around her shoulders, and while she’d changed into a pair of her jeans, she was still wearing the t-shirt Bucky had let her borrow the previous night. He was more than happy to let her keep it, if it made her feel any better.

“I believe I was promised breakfast meats,” Darcy said, giving them all a smile. The shine in her eyes that had become so familiar was still there, it’d just been dimmed a bit.

“We did promise that, didn’t we?” Steve grinned, reaching out for her hand, pulling so she was seated to his right, Bucky at his left. 

“The other girls?” she asked, letting Steve push her seat in for her. 

“Right there,” Clint said, walking around the table so he could press a kiss to Natasha’s cheek, Sam doing the same for Wanda.

“I’ve heard very good things about the pastries they make here.”

“Everything on the menu here is good,” Steve added as he sipped his coffee.

“Steve, from how I’ve seen you eat, I don’t know if I necessarily trust that judgement,” Wanda said from where her head was leaning on Sam’s shoulder.

“Right? Whatever you’re using, protein powder, supplements, ancient black magic, whatever it is, it’s working,” Darcy said, looking over at him with a smile. When Clint choked on the sip of water he’d been taking, she laughed. “You okay there, Clint?”

They all laughed when Natasha gave him one good _whack_ on his back, his eyes widening then turning to look at her. “Not in public, my love. Leave the beating for the bedroom.”

A chorus of groans sounded at the table, followed almost immediately by laugher.


	13. You Are Beautiful Like I’ve Never Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _Go ahead and laugh, even it if hurts, go ahead and pull the pin. What if we could risk everything we have and just let our walls cave in?_ " - Sleeping At Last
> 
> Steve and Bucky put Steve’s supernatural energy to good use.

“So, uh, I did a thing,” Steve said to Bucky as they made their way back up to their room after brunch. The rest of the group had taken cars back to campus, leaving the two men on their own. He laced his fingers with Bucky’s and pulled him down the hallway.

“What? That thing with your-” Bucky started to reply. Steve interrupted him with a kiss. It was short, and it accomplished what Steve wanted. He could still feel his ears turning pink, just thinking about it, even though _he_ was the one who had done _that_ to Bucky.

“No, not that, well. Yes, but no. I extended our stay here, for another night,” Steve told him. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, letting Steve lead them. “Oh?”

“Well, we didn’t get to enjoy the room as much as we wanted last night. Not that I’m… I don’t mean…”

Bucky leaned in and kissed Steve’s cheek. He didn’t need to say that he was upset they hadn’t used the room because of what had happened with Darcy. Bucky knew exactly what he’d meant.

“Anyway. We have the room until tomorrow.”

“And that includes the giant shower, tub and the windows overlooking the woods?” Bucky asked, casting a heated look in Steve’s direction.

“Yes. All of that.”

Eyes darkening at the possibilities, Bucky reached into Steve’s back pocket, pulling the keycard out. He turned, putting his back against the door, blocking Steve’s way. “Where did you want to start?” 

“Isn’t there a song about starting at the beginning?” Steve quipped, eyes flashing black as the door slipped open and he moved Bucky backward. The door closed behind them, and their clothes flew off before they even made it all the way into the main room. 

“You’re so goddamned distracting, you know that? God, I can’t keep my hands off of you,” Steve growled, hands roaming up Bucky’s arms to his shoulders, pulling the other man to him to press skin to skin. Steve slanted his mouth over Bucky’s, licking the seam of his lips and into his mouth when Bucky moaned.

“There are people going down for brunch, coming in after church, Sunday dinner, an afternoon walk.” Steve said against Bucky’s neck, leaving bite marks along the line of his shoulder. “They could hear you being fucked, see you all laid out against that window, if they just looked up. See you make a mess as you come screaming my name.”

The force in Steve’s words, the smallest hint of power, set Bucky panting. He could almost _feel_ Steve already, working into him, skin against skin, the cool glass on his hands. “Is that how you want me?”

Steve didn’t answer, just pushed Bucky backward until he hit curtains. Steve’s mouth crashed against his, all lips and tongue and biting, and the strength in the blond’s hands where they tangled in his hair made Bucky’s cock swell instantly. 

“That’s just the _first_ way that I want you,” Steve said, hands roaming wherever they could. Over Bucky’s shoulders to his back, grabbing his ass and digging his fingers into the flesh there. “And then over and over and over again. Want you screaming my name, want you in me, just want you.”

Drunk with Power Steve Rogers was a whole new level of sexy and Bucky’s heart raced quicker as he saw the determination in Steve’s eyes.

“Then take me,” Bucky said, hand snaking to the back of Steve’s neck, pulling his lover’s mouth down to his own. Steve’s hands were everywhere, hot and firm, and Bucky melted into him, letting him do what he wanted. He breathed inward sharply when Steve’s fingers dug into his hips before flipping him. He pressed his hands to the curtains, only to have Steve rip them open. The light made Bucky close his eyes until they could adjust.

“See them down there,” Steve breathed against his ear, pressing the long line of his body against Bucky, “they could look up any second.”

The shiver that rolled down Bucky’s spine had nothing to do with temperature.

“They could see you taking my cock, and not be able to touch, ‘cause you’re mine,” Steve rolled his body against Bucky’s, cock rubbing in the crease of his ass, teasing. He bit down on the flesh of Buck’s shoulder, leaving a bruise behind in the perfect shape of his teeth. “Want you to feel me later.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky hissed, feeling the heavy weight of Steve behind him, pressing against his ass, rubbing but not putting any pressure. It was a promise of what was yet to come and it made Bucky’s mouth part in a harsh sigh. Steve’s arm wrapped around him, holding him close as he pumped his hips _just_ enough that Bucky could feel him hot, hard, and ready. “Need to-”

He heard a noise, looking over his shoulder as Steve drew a finger into his mouth, wetting it. He let out a moan as he felt the press of Steve’s finger, brushing over him, testing, teasing. “Fuck, yes Steve, _yes_!”

Steve moved to his knees behind Bucky, nipping at the back of his knees and thighs, taking his time when he heard Bucky gasp or felt him shudder. How many times had they done this? How many times had Steve worked to take Bucky apart in the short time they had been together and he was still drunk on the taste and smell of Bucky’s skin. Steve used his knees to nudge Bucky’s feet apart, causing him to press his hands into the cool glass for balance. Slowly, carefully, Steve used the tip of his tongue to lick from Bucky’s balls up his ass, and slowly back down. He did it again, hearing Bucky’s sharp intake of breath as his tongue circled around Bucky’s hole, wetting him, working him with his tongue to loosen Bucky for his fingers.

Every sensation drew a different sound from him, and the feeling of Steve’s mouth and fingers on him as he watched the oblivious people below stole the air from his lungs. When Steve’s mouth started its same journey over again, he couldn’t help the small noise of want that fell out. “ _Steve_ ,” he breathed, wanting to grab onto something, _anything_ , but only finding the cool glass beneath his hands. “Want you in me. Need you.”

“What was that, love?” Steve pulled back long enough to flick his hand out for slick, coating his fingers and working one into Bucky, cock jerking at every gasp and noise from above him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Steve asked, slipped a second finger in with the first, and scissored his fingers to stretch Bucky. He pressed his body against Bucky’s, rocking into him, rubbing his aching dick near where they both wanted him to be. 

Bucky bit his lip, the feeling of Steve’s finger stretching him, prepping him, making him want to cry out. He wanted Steve to pound into him, feel that delicious ache the entire day, skin on skin and marks that signaled ‘this one’s mine’. “Steve,” he said, pushing backward, wanting to feel more of him, everywhere.

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that,” Steve said, working in a third finger, “love hearing my name on your lips.” He couldn’t take it any longer, not with the way Bucky was shifting back, rocking into his hand.

He straightened, hands gripping Bucky’s hips, fingers digging into flesh. “Tell me you want this.”

“Fuck, yes. Want you. Want to feel you inside of, filling me. Yes, Steve, _yes_ , I want you.”

Steve shifted, coating himself with slick, before spreading Bucky’s cheeks and just looking his fill. His lover had the best ass, high and defined, curving out to fill Steve’s hands perfectly. He pressed in, taking his time.

“You’re so tight, so hot, just taking me in, Bucky, fuck. Look at you,” Steve babbled as he slid the rest of the way into Bucky’s ass. “They could look up, could see you spread out for me.” He punctuated each word with a snap of his hips, an arm wrapping around Bucky’s front to fist his cock, pumping in time with each thrust. Steve caught the edge of Bucky’s ear with his teeth. 

He was so full, Steve’s breath on his skin, the taste of Steve on his lips, every sense dominated by Steve so he felt surrounded and drowning _so much_.

Bucky cried out, hands slapping against the glass, the sound of skin striking skin, warmth and breath and _fuck_ he was getting close. Steve shifted his hips, hitting a different depth, and it stole the air from Bucky’s lungs. “Close,” he gasped, “so close!”

Steve redoubled his efforts, spurred on by hearing his name falling from Bucky’s mouth. He pounded himself into Bucky, trying to hit the spot that made him almost shriek with pleasure each time. Fisting his hand into Bucky’s hair, Steve growled, “Come for me, Buck. Right now.”

The demand from Steve sent Bucky over the edge, coming as Steve’s teeth sunk into the meat of his shoulder, marking him. He could feel Steve’s fingernails drag down his back. Knowing Bucky had come, Steve’s grip on his hips tightened as he crashed their bodies together over and over. Each thrust forced another moan from Bucky until it was little more than a babble of nonsense. Just when Bucky thought he couldn’t take anymore, when there was _too much_ and he was dizzy with it all, he heard Steve shout, his hips still, small shallow thrusts as he came.

The movement was less hurried, less frenzied, but every movement still sparked along Bucky’s skin. He let his head hang, breathing heavily, feeling spent and sated and so full. He didn’t trust his voice, not yet, and could only grunt his pleasure as Steve shifted. He knew he’d ache later, but it wouldn’t be _pain_ , not really, just the reminder of being taken, completely and utterly taken.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky. He licked and kissed the spot right between Bucky’s shoulders, breathing hard. For the moment, his whole body was quiet, focused on feeling pleasure and relaxation. He could still feel little licks of power under his skin, but it seemed sated, almost lazy.

“That was amazing,” he mumbled into Bucky’s back. “I can’t believe you. So perfect.”

Bucky nodded, glad that Steve was holding him upright. He wasn’t sure if he’d been able to do it on his own. A sad noise slipped past his lips as Steve pulled out and put space between their bodies, the loss of body heat stark against Bucky’s skin.

They both collapsed on the bed, tired and languid and _still_. Bucky might have fallen asleep for a few minutes against Steve’s chest, his ear pressed and listening to the steady _thumpthumpthump_ of his heart. His eyes opened when a large growl emanated from Steve’s stomach.

His lashes brushed against skin as he looked up, giving Steve a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t you eat two omelets this morning?”

“Like you were any better right before your birthday. I seem to remember a tray of tacos from the taqueria and you kept going on about chimichangas,” Steve replied, smirking in Bucky’s direction. “Room service is a thing.”

“Ooh, doesn’t this place do those killer pulled pork nachos?”

*~*~*~*~*

“You’re going to drop cheese and crumbs in the water,” Steve said, trying to follow the chip with his mouth.

“Just hold still with your mouth open and I’ll put it in.” Bucky replied. He was trying to get the last of the double plate of nachos into Steve’s mouth, with no small trouble.

“I’ve heard that about you.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed even as a small grin climbed onto his lips. “You’re a dick.” He finally managed to get the food in Steve’s mouth, brushing his hands over the side of the tub. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“Yes. I am.” Steve chewed, smiling brightly at Bucky. He felt infinitely better with food in his stomach. It wasn’t a hardship sharing the tub with his love, either, surrounded by hot water and a heaping mound of bubbles. Darcy had been right. The bathtub was amazing.

“The girls already went back to the dorms. Sam and Clint will be meeting us for dinner, then we’ll head out of town.” 

They’d made the day as clear as possible on purpose. They weren’t sure how Steve would ramp up in the coming hours. Sam had thrown up for the last twelve hours before he Ascended. Clint’s hearing had gone crazy, allowing him hear the blood as it rushed through his veins and passed through each ventricle in his heart. Bucky had seen lights and colors that weren’t there. They were prepared just in case Steve experienced similar effects.

“Anything else you want to do today? Before?”

Steve snuggled closer back into Bucky, letting the warm water come up over his chest. His skin felt like it was thrumming, little licks of fire dancing all over, itching underneath. Being near Bucky, being able to be touched by him, only helped.

“I can think of a few things.” He turned his head to press a kiss to Bucky’s chin. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, that you’re all here. I’d be going out of my mind, otherwise.”

“Couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.” Bucky said, wrapping his arms around Steve, the water sloshing the smallest bit. The only sounds in the bathroom were the sounds of water moving and the soft static of bubbles popping around them. It was the first bit of real peace they’d had in the last twenty-four hours. 

“Are you worried about tonight?”

Steve shrugged. Of course he was. He wasn’t as big or as strong, physically, as the others. His dad had died, hadn’t been able to save himself, even with Power. What if everything didn’t go all right. What if…

Steve yelped when he felt Bucky’s teeth nip into his shoulder.

“Stop that. I can feel you thinking, love.”

“‘Course I’m worried. I’d be insane not to be,” Steve finally said. “It’s a lot of Power, all at once. And I’ve always been… well.. Me. All of this - “ he indicated his body with a sweep of his hand “ - hasn’t treated me the best.” There’d been the pneumonia, the asthma, anemia, the terrible vision.

Bucky rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “All of this, all of _you_ , is exactly as it’s supposed to be. No moping. It’s almost your birthday. Happy birthdays things, only.” His hands started moving down Steve’s arms, making long, slow trails up and down with his fingers. He breathed in the smell of Steve’s skin, wet and warm and soapy. 

“Buck-”

“Shhh. Just relax. Let me love on you some,” Bucky whispered his command, running his nose around the rim of Steve’s ear. His hands continued their slow, steady movements, up and down Steve’s arms, down his chest, making slow circles across Steve’s thighs. He sighed as Steve leaned back into him, letting some of the tension go.

“That’s it.”

Steve’s eyes had fallen closed, focusing on the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest against his back. His head lolled back onto Bucky’s shoulder, turning so his lips pressed against the skin of Bucky’s jaw.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” Bucky whispered, fingers brushing over slick skin beneath the mountain of bubbles, up and down, soothing and relaxing, attempting to drain the anxiety from Steve’s body. “The best man, my best friend. Everything is going to be fine.”

They stayed like that, quiet and calm, bodies sliding against each other in the water. When Steve turned, causing small waves to lap against the sides of the tub, his lips pressed against Bucky’s softly, slowly, no rush in the action. If Steve didn’t have _this_ , here with Bucky, he didn’t know what he’d do. How he’d been able to keep himself from doing this, _being_ this with Bucky? He’d never understand why it’d taken him so long.

“I love you,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips, wrapping arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Bucky smiled against Steve, pressing closer, running his hands over the long line of Steve’s back, down to the curve of his thighs, squeezing gently. 

“Love you,” he replied, trying to put how he felt in the way he slanted his mouth over Steve’s, the way he pressed Steve to him with a hand on his lower back, the other sweeping up his chest, to cup Steve’s face. He loved this man to the ends of the earth, would do anything for him. Knew that he would come out the other side of this better than any of them had. 

Slow, warm arousal made it’s way through Steve where Bucky touched him. He shuddered at the feel of stubble on his chin and the lightest hint of nails at his back. His skin ached and craved the contact. Steve stroked down Bucky’s chest to his sides, just lightly resting as he felt Bucky’s ribs expand and contrast with each breath.

What had started slow and languid was building in Bucky’s chest, heat and desire climbing up his throat and spilling into Steve. He held Steve tighter, lips trailing down Steve’s jaw and into the curve of his neck and shoulder. Tongue darting out, he licked the water that slid over Steve’s skin, tasting the bubbles and what was just _Steve_.

He could feel Steve pressed against him, somehow warmer than the water surrounding them. Bucky’s fingers dug into Steve’s back as he deepened the kiss, trying to make Steve know how much this meant, how much _he_ meant, to Bucky. It wasn’t frantic, or panicked, but strong and imploring. _This_ , he meant, _this_ is what you mean to me.

Steve sighed against Bucky’s lips, and began to slowly, slowly rock his hips against Bucky. They were both hard and slick from the water and soap and Bucky just felt _so good_ against him. Steve couldn’t help the soft noises coming out of his mouth as he pulled back from kissing Bucky, catching his gaze and hoping everything he felt - _lovehopetrusthome_ \- was on his face. 

He gasped when one of Bucky’s hands wrapped around both of their cocks. His hand moved incrementally slowly, barely putting any pressure on Steve, and it was perfect. He could just feel the warmth from Bucky’s skin and the water moving around them. He whimpered as Bucky’s hand closed around them, not moving any faster, moving firmer and squeezing around the tip of his cock before moving down again.

Steve was caught in Bucky’s eyes, impossibly long lashes framing eyes flashing stormy grey then black and back to grey. He could picture how red Bucky’s lips would be from kissing and biting. Steve wanted to trace the flush from Bucky’s cheeks down to his chest but couldn’t seem to make his arms move.

Bucky watched Steve’s mouth, parted lips and wet tongue as it darted out, his breath hitching slightly as Bucky’s hands moved beneath the water. Every few seconds a sound of want fell from Steve, louder in the bathroom and its stone surfaces, an amazing sound that Bucky wanted to hear over and over.

He could judge now when Steve was on the precipice of release, even without his love saying anything, as he’d committed to memory every small expression Steve showed. This was nice, warm and slick and calm, but Bucky didn’t want this to end here. “Turn around,” he breathed against Steve’s cheek, hands still moving.

Water sloshed over the side of the tub as Steve turned. He managed to get around without slipping or falling face first into the water. Bucky’s hands guided Steve back to press against his chest, cock caught between Steve’s cheeks. Steve squirmed at the sensation, a grin pulling one side of his mouth up at the sound of need in his ear.

“Like this?” he hummed as he moved his body against Bucky’s.

Bucky hands gripped Steve’s hips, fingers digging in, uncaring that he might leave marks. In fact, leaving marks made his heart race quicker. It’s not that anyone else would see the marks, but _he’d_ know they were there, right under the fabric of Steve’s clothes. “Yes,” he hissed against Steve’s back, tongue tracing a line up Steve’s spine.

His hand snaked under Steve, fingers pressing against him, testing, teasing. “I want to feel you wrapped around me, slowly, up and down, until you can’t take it anymore.”

“You keep talkin’ like that I’m not even gonna - _fuck_ -” Steve shuddered at the press of Bucky’s fingers on his hips. “Not even gonna make it that far.”

“Talkin’ like you make me so goddamn hard I can’t even think? I wanna fuck you Steve, until you can’t think of nothing but me. Want to watch you get off on my dick so hard that you feel me walking around, sitting, can’t shift without thinking of me lovin’ you.” Bucky nipped down Steve’s neck to his shoulder, feeling each jerk against his body. 

“Wanna taste you in my mouth, wanna ride you, take you in me like no one else. I can’t keep my hands off of you for wanting you. Want fucking everything with you.” 

Steve shuddered, body already so hard, spurred on by the images and feelings Bucky’s words formed in his head. 

Fingers pushed against Steve, stretching, making sure his body was ready. He heard the gasp fly past Steve’s lips as he pushed with another finger, working them in and out, preparing so whatever discomfort was caused was washed away with pleasure, so it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended.

The soap in the water made everything slick, so when Bucky positioned himself, pressing his cock against Steve’s opening, the tip moved in easily, earning a sigh from Steve and a groan from Bucky.

Feeling Bucky in him was still so damn overwhelming, and every part of him was so sensitive that he felt like he was going to just explode out of his skin. Finally sinking all the way down on Bucky, Steve groaned and let his head fall back. He tried, Steve really tried to move himself up, but all he could managed was rocking his hips back and forth, little _ah ah ah_ breaths escaping him each time Bucky hit another perfect spot inside of him.

“Love, I can’t, please,” he pleaded. “It’s too much.”

Bucky stopped moving at Steve’s words, hands coming up to rest on Steve’s shoulders. “What do you need from me, baby,” Bucky asked, not wanting to force Steve into anything he couldn’t handle.

“Take me to bed. Hold me down and fuck me until I can’t move. Help me come, please, Bucky,” Steve managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Can.. that’s… is that okay?” Bucky had wanted Steve to control his own pleasure, but Steve could barely think with how good it felt.

“I can do that.”

Bucky pulled out of Steve, both of them making sounds, the lack of contact physically jarring. Bucky toweled off Steve, taking his time and paying his body the attention it deserved. When Steve was vibrating with need, panting at Bucky’s movements, Bucky led them back to the bed. He pushed Steve back, crawling up the blond’s body, dropping kisses to every rib, every freckle, every piece of skin he could.

“On your front, that’s it,” Bucky prompted Steve. He shoved a pillow under Steve’s hips, guiding him so that his dick was trapped against his stomach. The friction made Steve shudder and twitch. Bucky grabbed the lube from the night stand, opened it, and placed a good bit on his fingers before turning his attention back to Steve. Pressing his fingers in, Bucky took his time making sure that Steve was ready, muscles relaxed and pliant. Bucky used a little more lube on himself, stroking his cock until he was gasping with each movement.

“Are you ready for me, love?” he asked Steve. 

Steve nodded, pushing against where Bucky just hovered outside of his hole, teasing them both. Bucky pushed into Steve, hard and hot, and so turned on. Steve’s back was covered in bites, bruises from earlier. Bucky could see the beginnings of lines down Steve’s sides from his nails and it sent a wave of arousal down his spine.

Inch by inch, Bucky moved moved out, slowly, so slowly, that it stole the air from Steve’s lungs, leaving him unable to make a noise. He was full, and hard, and he took in a deep, shaky breath when Bucky began to push back in.

“How’s that, baby?” Bucky asked, punctuating his question with a hard, deep thrust, giving Steve what he’d asked for.

“Uh huh,” Steve moaned into the bed. “More.” He reached to grab the headboard, pressing back into Bucky. He let out a sharp cry when he felt Bucky’s warm hand push down between his shoulder blades, the other holding tight enough to his hip to leave more bruises. Bucky’s hips snapped into Steve and he screamed.

Bucky’s thrust were hard, deep, his whole body rolling with the movement. There were a steady stream of grunt and shouts and screams coming from Steve, which were interspersed with cries of _yes_ and _more_ and _fuck me_. 

“That’s it,” Bucky growled, hand grabbing Steve’s shoulder, using it as leverage to pull Steve back against him as he pushed forward, their bodies meeting with the sound of skin on skin, echoing off the walls, the bed creaking with the pace. “Feels so good, want to give you all of me.”

Unable to hold back anymore, each thrust from Bucky sending him higher and higher, Steve came, hard, and messy and screaming Bucky’s name over and over again. Fire shot through him, the window cracking and all of the bulbs burst in the room, shooting sparks around them.

Feeling Steve go, hearing him scream his release, hurried Bucky, his hips meeting Steve impossibly hard and fast. When Steve could no longer say words, just gasping and moaning, Bucky’s vision went white as he came. “Fuck!”

Bucky did his best not to collapse on Steve, catching himself with arms on either side of the man below him, panting and sweating, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything but languish through the end of orgasm and the come down after.

It took several minutes for either of them to move, but when they did, both of them cried out, their bodies no longer one. Bucky hit the bed next to Steve, on his side and breathing heavy. He looked at Steve, face still pressed against the comforter, pink cheeked and indescribably handsome. 

“Damn, Rogers.”

Steve managed to open his eyes, blinked to clear them. Bucky looked wrecked, absolutely fucked out and beautiful. Steve’s fingers itched to draw him this way. He managed to roll to his side, tugged Bucky to him, and just breathed.

“Right back at you. Holy shit, you’re good at that. Like, woah, amazing.”

Laughing tiredly, Bucky rested his forehead in the space where Steve’s shoulder met neck, pressing a kiss to the skin. “I’ve got a good partner,” he breathed, arm draping over Steve’s side, their skin slick with sweat. “Think I could convince you to take a nap with me?”

Steve laughed, reaching out to place a kiss on Bucky’s forehead. “Tired?”

“Nah, just a recharge for later.” He looked up at Steve with a smile, Bucky’s hunger for the man seemingly insatiable. 

“I’d love a nap with you,” Steve replied. With a thought, the glass became unshattered and the bulbs were like new. He pressed another kiss to Bucky’s forehead, and closed his eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

“Buck.”

“Mmmm, yes, love?”

“We’re in the woods.” Steve sang the vowels of the last word.

“Yes. Yes we are.” Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that turned his lips as he leaned against his truck. The nap they’d taken had given him the energy he’d needed. His eyes weren’t open, just enjoying the feel of the fall air on his skin, but he could _feel_ Steve vibrating with energy beside him. He understood the unending void of energy Steve was pulling from. The last twelve hours before his birthday had been like a rush of emotions, of power, of raw unbridled _energy_. Despite attempting to get their energy out _several delicious times_ during the day, he was still ready and eager to go.

It was infectious.

But Bucky also knew that an anchor was needed. Sam had had it the worst, being the first to turn twenty-one, not sure what to expect. He’d led Bucky and Clint through it from experience, helping them by being what he’d not had - a tether, something real to hold on to as they drifted on the waves of power.

He was trying to be that for Steve, but his lover was handling the change better than they had. Steve was just… _happy_. He was climbing the walls and crawling out of his skin, but underneath it all was serenity. Bucky knew Steve had worried about this not happening for him, and despite the assurances, he’d still felt like maybe he wasn’t worthy.

It was an echo of him not valuing himself enough. But that was okay, because Bucky could value Steve enough for the both of them.

“Something you like about the woods in particular? Perhaps a small yellow bear with a shirt but no pants?”

“Pants, no pants. I like that idea,” Steve smiled, fingers playing with the hem of Bucky’s shirt, pulling it out of said pants, and running his hands up smooth, warm skin. Steve knew that the skin was covered in scratches and bites, evidence of the past twelve hours they’d spent with each other. 

“It’s all fall with leaves and smells and pumpkins and birthday. And don’t I get fun birthday things?” He crowded Bucky into his truck, hands on either side of Bucky’s shoulders, hips and chest flush. Steve pressed his mouth against Bucky’s, soft and light. He grinned when he felt Bucky’s hands slip into his back pockets.

The hairs on Bucky’s arms stood up, the smallest gust of wind sending his hair fluttering. It wasn’t natural but came from the person pressed against him, most likely unconsciously. He wasn’t going to scold Steve, tell him to contain himself, because that was the whole reason they’d come out here. They were miles away from the nearest person, no risk of anyone finding them. 

Kissing Steve, Bucky flexed his fingers, digging into his boyfriend’s ass through his jeans, grinding against him just the tiniest bit. “Are you saying you want one of your presents early?”

“Isn’t it about celebrating the birthday all day?” Steve nipped at Bucky’s lower lip. They didn’t even notice the little sparks of energy flicking around them. “Do I get to unwrap my gift, or is it one of those kind where I just close my eyes and hold my hands out?”

“There’s an unwrapping of a sort,” Bucky teased, reaching out to tug at Steve’s t-shirt, pulling it from his jeans. “And I suppose something for you to hold in your hand, too.”

The branches above them swayed gently as he laced his fingers with Steve’s and led them away from the truck. They walked to the other side of the giant oak, where a line of metal fencing separated one field from another. As he turned, making Steve walk backward, he pulled Steve’s shirt over his head, tossing it to the grass.

His fingers worked at Steve’s pants, a small sound of surprise and heat as Bucky realized his pants had a button fly. Steve _knew_ Bucky had a thing for buttons and he’d done it on purpose. He flicked each of the buttons with purpose, biting at Steve’s lips.

Steve cupped Bucky’s face with his hands, trusting him to keep them moving without tripping or falling. Their breath made little clouds in the air, and Steve could feel goosebumps starting along his arms, but he was burning up everywhere Bucky touched him. He didn’t want to stop kissing Bucky long enough to take his shirt off, but he wanted more skin on his own. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” he hissed as Bucky’s fingers brushed against him. Heat shot through him, feeling like a punch to the gut. 

The way Steve said his name when he was drunk with lust made Bucky strain against his own jeans, the friction almost too uncomfortable. He stopped moving when Steve’s back hit the fence, hearing the blond’s sharp intake of breath as the cool metal touched his skin. His hands wrapped around Steve, pushing his jeans so they hung low on his hips. He was bare, nothing under the denim, and Bucky sucked at Steve’s clavicle. His boyfriend had checked off several things on Bucky’s favorite list, and he was ready to show Steve how much he appreciated it.

“Grab the fence,” Bucky growled, his hand moving up and down, his wrist turning _just so_ when he got close to his head, feeling the shiver go up Steve’s spine.

“Not ‘til this is off, too,” Steve gasped, pulling Bucky’s shirt off over his head, ripping it in the process. He made to grab the bars of the fence, when Bucky shook his head.

“Nuh uh. Lean back, baby, grab lower,” he directed, moving Steve’s hand exactly to where he wanted it. He took a moment to drink in the lines of Steve, bent back over the top railing, left hand low, bringing his body into a bow. Bucky ran his hands from Steve’s shoulder down his arms to his hands, wrapping their fingers together. “Hold on right here. Don’t let go, mmm?”

Steve shuddered, biting his lower lip, breathing hard through his nose. He was on display for Bucky, every bit of him laid bare. He could feel each pulse of blood going through him, his focus narrowed to the man in front of him.

“I won’t.”

Bucky took his time, Steve’s arched back giving him free access to every piece of skin he wanted to touch, and kiss, and lick. He didn’t rush, though he could practically see the anticipation inside Steve, vibrating with need. Bucky’s tongue swept across Steve’s collarbones, the small divots where his shoulder met his neck. His fingers trailed down his sides, smirking when Steve strained, fingers gripping the metal of the fence tighter.

Steve was true to his word, not letting go of the fence, jaw clenching as Bucky continued his slow, controlled movements over his skin.

Hands held Steve still, Bucky’s tongue tracing down the lines on either side of Steve’s inner hips. He let his teeth drag across the skin, enough to hint pain and the thrill of pushing past the point of pleasure. Steve’s body shook, his breath coming out in pants.

Bucky’s chin bumped against Steve, velvet and smooth and so, _so_ warm. He looked up the long, lean lines of Steve’s body, eyes darkened with heat and the haze of sex. When he wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock, thumb brushing over the shiny bit of precome, the shudder shook him from his toes to the top of his head.

“Eyes on me, love,” Bucky whispered when Steve’s eyes screwed shut, face flushed with need.

Steve gasped as Bucky took the whole head of his cock all at one, Bucky’s mouth hot and wet, and so good. His hands itched to run through Bucky’s hair, run over his shoulders, around to his chest. He wanted to feel the welts he’d already left, the marks from his fingers raking down Bucky’s back.

His tongue worked against Steve, knowing where to slide to make him gasp, how much pressure was needed for Steve to hiss out his name, what it took to make his hips buck upward into him. His hand moved in tandem, curling around Steve’s dick, meeting his lips, wrapping around the entire length of Steve before moving up and starting all again.

Steve was calling his name as a mantra - _BuckyBuckyBucky_ \- and as much as he desperately wanted to wrap his hand around himself and chase Steve as they both came, he wanted to focus all his attentions on the man in front of him. He wanted Steve to scream his name into the air, with no one but the trees to hear it echo. He wanted his boyfriend to fall apart so Bucky could put him together and do it all over again.

_God, you taste so good, Steve. So sexy. Want to make you feel good, watch your face as I wrap my lips around you._

Steve couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the flicks of Power that snapped down his body and onto Bucky. They moved like phantom fingers, caressing and pressing everywhere skin showed in the predawn light. 

Steve’s back bowed as he pumped his hips helplessly, trying to watch his dick disappearing between those beautiful red lips, stretched and wet around him. He felt like he was going to fly out of his skin, and that Bucky was the only thing keeping him on the ground.

“Please,” Steve gasped.

At Steve’s words, Bucky slowed. He knew Steve was taut, like a rubber band, so close and feeling the power, but he knew Steve needed a level. Something to siphon the energy so he didn’t explode when the power flew into him. 

He drew Steve from his mouth, staring up at him as he licked a single line from the base of Steve’s dick to the tip. He watched the shudder, heard the intake of air and the whispered ‘ _fuck_ ’ that fell from Steve’s lips. He switched, taking as much of Steve as he could, hand splayed and spread on Steve’s stomach, Bucky’s chin brushing along the buttons of Steve’s fly as he pressed lips tight. 

“ _Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuck, god Bucky, you’re so good, shit, fuck, Bucky, I can’t, please, BuckyBuckyBucky!_ ” Steve moaned out loud and in Bucky’s head, sending out his feelings and thoughts. Power made his eyes glow with fire, spilling over into Bucky, into the ground, into the metal of the fence and electric lines.

Bucky could tell Steve was close, the almost constant noise of want and need falling from his lips. Bucky focused on the build, mouth working quickly, hand squeezing up and down in time with his mouth’s movement, syncing the two. He wanted this release for Steve, powerful and heady, wanted to feel the rush of power as he fell off the edge.

_I want to feel you spilling down my throat, Steve. Want to taste you, make you come, swallow until you beg me to stop and then keep going. Do it, baby. Come for me. Give me what I want._

How could Steve do anything but come for Bucky? His hands tore into the metal railing, crumpling under his hands as he screamed out his release, Power making it stronger and longer than he’d ever felt. 

He came down Bucky’s throat, jerking as he felt each swallow and breath, Bucky’s hand following in tandem to his mouth.

“Buck!”

He hadn’t expected it, but as he felt Steve spasm, felt his hips moving on their own into Bucky’s mouth as he swallowed, he felt a jolt of electricity build and spark. He wasn’t sure if it was the feel of Steve letting go, the Power rush as Steve screamed his release, or the way he would feel Steve with every sense he possessed, but Bucky came, wordless and dizzy and every synapse firing at the same time.

He came up gasping for air, gripping Steve’s hips, eyes wide as it seemed another wave rushed over him, arching his back, Steve’s name tumbling from his lips. He could taste Steve, smell him, feel pinpricks of power up and down his skin. “ _Fuck, Steve, fuck!_ ”

Steve managed to let go of the bars to slip down in front of Bucky. His hands flailed for purchase as he stumbled down, finally finding Bucky’s hands and grabbing on. He couldn’t tell if he was still coming, or if it was Power still sparking through him. He was surrounded by Bucky’s heart beat and breathing and scent and it mixed with the woods and it was everything.

“Fuck. _Fuck_.”

His body was still shaking, but he could catch his breath again. Bucky’s hands convulsed around Steve’s, holding on. The grass was soft on his back as he fell to his side, feeling Steve do the same. The dew spread on his skin, quelling the heat that had come from within. He’d _never_ felt anything like this, not even close. Maybe it was because they were this close to Steve’s Ascension, maybe it was a combination of several things, but whatever it was, he was floored. There were no words for this. Well, he could say a few words - mostly _fuck_ and _Steve_ and _yes_ \- but none of them could describe what had just happened.

He laughed, every muscle in his body releasing at once, feeling like a wet noodle as he looked over at Steve. “Damn. That was… _damn_.”

Steve was laughing with him, eyes still black and fire, pants undone, and chest heaving. He didn’t remember ever coming that hard before. He couldn’t do much more than look over at Bucky, smile stretching his mouth. 

“Goddamn.” Steve laughed again, light and loud. His phone went off from where he’d left it inside the truck. “Jesus, Mary, and all the Saints. I love you.”

“I love you,” Bucky repeated, hearing the chime of Steve’s phone again. “I can’t move, so that’s all on you, stud,” he said, hand coming up to his chest as he kept breathing heavily, shoulders shaking with laughter.


	14. More Human Than Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”Family isn’t about the blood you share. It’s about the people willing to bleed for you.”_ \- Sherrilyn Kenyon, _Born of Fury_
> 
> Steve Ascends. There are waffles.

It had gotten dark hours ago. Clouds had rolled in, a storm front _not_ of their making causing lightning and thunder on the horizon. There was a cool wind from the east, but Steve couldn’t feel anything but heat and electricity on his skin. He was pacing from one end of the barn to the other, running hands up and down his arms anxiously. 

Sam, Clint and Bucky were watching him with understanding eyes as he moved. Bucky glanced down at his watch. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Somebody say something,” Steve said, eyes glancing up at them as he paced.

“Like what? You’re making me dizzy.”

Sam shot Clint a look before he stood up, crossing to where Steve was. He put two hands on Steve’s shoulders, giving the blond a sympathetic look. “I know how you’re feeling. You’ll be fine.”

“It looked like it hurt when you guys-”

“Just for a bit. It’s a lot of power going into a pretty small vessel.”

“Can we not call him a vessel? It’s creepy.” Clint stood, walking toward Steve and Sam. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling the static in the air raising the hair up and down his arms.

Bucky sighed, joining the rest, placing a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder and reaching out to thread his fingers with Steve’s. “You’ve only got a few minutes left.”

“What if it doesn’t work? Or something is different from you guys’ change?”

“You’re going to be fine. We’re here with you, whatever happens.” 

Steve looked into Sam’s face, the first one of them to experience this, and believed him when he said they were in this together.

“I love you guys,” Clint said, no mirth or joke in his voice, just a sincere smile on his face as he threw his arm across Sam’s back, right hand gripping Bucky’s shoulder. 

This was everything, right here. These boys. These men, his _brothers_. Steve had never been alone, not really, ever since fifth grade. Since the year they had all turned fifteen, and each of their fathers had sat them down and told them that they were _different_ , special, and what changes their bodies were facing. Their responsibilities, to themselves and to each other, all of it coming to a head here.

Yes, Steve was nervous, but not terrified. They were _here_ , would always be here, with him and for him.

Steve felt the old floorboards underneath him creak, saw large hand-smithed nails start to pop out of their places, smelled ozone and petrichor. The air tasted like pennies and mint. Steve could feel Power rolling towards him.

He met Bucky’s eyes, dark with black and fire just as his own, and took a deep breath just before the Power slammed into him. 

It felt like lightning had crashed through the top of the roof and struck Steve. The feeling of bites travelled up and down his arms, under his skin, through every fiber of his being. He burned and felt like ice and couldn’t understand how he was still contained within his body. The rush was indescribable, and suddenly he understood why the others had never been able to tell him exactly what it’d felt like.

There were no words, nothing in any language that could explain the Power as it burned within his veins, ice and lava and the very earth beneath his feet rushing in time. He screamed, sure his body would burst into a million pieces.

Steve looked down at his arms, sure he’d see fissures in the skin where he was being ripped apart, but instead seeing the glow, like the lightning that had hit him was lighting him from within. He shone, like the moon made flesh. He was still screaming, waiting for the moment where everything would go black.

And then there was nothing. He opened his eyes experimentally, not sure if he even had them anymore, if he even had a _body_ anymore as he could only feel… white noise. Like waves lapping against sand and rocks as it had for a millennia before he was born.

He was glowing, the power solidifying in his chest, but he wasn’t the only one lighting the interior of the barn. He blinked back tears as he saw all of them, Bucky and Sam and Clint, glowing with that same otherwordly light. They looked shocked as well, each of their mouths opened in awe, not sure what this was.

They were all hovering above the ground, making a perfect diamond, eyes black and fire, mist and smoke making circles around them. Steve blinked as he saw a thin gold tendril curl it’s way out of his chest, like it was searching for something. It hit Bucky’s chest, and went from dull to brightest new gold, snapping to a solid line. Another went to Clint, then to Sam. They shuddered as tendrils connected them to each other, making a web of shining gold. Clint mouthed _What the fuck_ , as tendrils left him to connect to the other men. Sam’s eyes went wider as the same happened to him, and then Bucky.

He had stopped yelling, they all had, when Steve saw shapes over Sam’s shoulder. He could see movement, but it was almost like he couldn’t look at them straight on. Bodies. Faces. Only in his peripheral, at the edges of his eyes. And then… He thought one of them…

”Dad?”

The vision was like smoke, something fragile, but it was Steve’s father, smiling with pride and looking exactly as he had the last time he’d been alive. He didn’t speak, just nodded toward his son. The first hot tear fell down Steve’s cheek, not certain he could speak, unable to look away.

There were faces, wisps of people surrounding the four of them where they hovered. Some of them were familiar, smiles gracing some of the photo albums at home, grandfathers and great grandfathers, back through the generations. Thin, soft gold lines led to and from each of them, the web spreading out in all directions. The lines of Power, passed down, gifted to each of them.

Steve reached out, a finger touching the line that came from his chest, feeling it thrum like a guitar string. It vibrated and sang with a hum as it traveled outward, until it touched the others at the same time, shaking within them, then cascading into the darkness. His eyes followed the line, seeing how far it went. He saw one line, faint and almost fading away, as it traveled out of the barn and disappeared into the night.

He turned back to find the face of his father, crying out when he began to fade from sight. His father smiled, bringing a hand to rest over his heart, and Steve swore he heard his father’s words in his ear.

_I am so proud of you and the man you’ve become._

His father vanished, along with everyone else, before everything went white.

Steve opened his eyes slowly, blinking them to try to focus. He was on the floor of the barn, he thought, and he could hear crows squawking in the distance. The floor was warm, and moving? He thought for a moment, then realized the floor was Clint’s purple t-shirt covering his stomach. Steve’s hand was laced with Bucky’s and Sam’s head was on Steve’s thigh.

He cleared his throat. “Everyone okay?”

Clint grunted. “I feel like I just got my ass kicked by Natasha and then had tantric sex while acing a physics exam.”

“That is definitely not how mine went,” Sam answered, trying to sit up but unable to find the energy just yet.

“Did you see -”

“My dad,” Steve said, tears still wet on his face, “I saw my dad.”

“My gramps looked _good_ ,” Sam laughed, sounding just a bit tipsy and drunk with the power that had poured through them.

The men laid there, until their bodies no longer thrummed and their breathing had returned to normal. Finally, Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand, groaning as he sat up. He gave Sam his other hand and helped him up. They both turned to Clint, pulling him to his feet. They started to lift Steve from the ground and laughed when they let go, his butt hitting the dirt.

“Oh my god, you’re so heavy!”

“You’re like 300 pounds now.”

“Are your bones made of adamantium?”

“Clint you are a giant nerd, I don’t care who your girlfriend is.”

“Suck it.”

“I think that’s Barnes’ job now, innit?”

Finally making it to his feet, Steve laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months. The rest of them joined in, surrounding him with hugs and laughter.

“I want waffles. Anyone up for waffles?”


End file.
